Magic of Love
by daltoneering
Summary: fantasy!AU: Kurt Hummel is a magic student at Callahan Academy in the kingdom of Kerajan. When he meets Blaine Anderson, he's certain that his life can only get better from now on. But in a land where war and magic are common and nothing is quite as it seems, how can he know what he's really getting himself in for?
1. Chapter 1

**Magic of Love**

**AU:** Kurt is a student at Callahan Academy, a [high] school in the land of Kerajan. Basically, his magic class is the Glee club and the warriors are the football jocks.

**Rated**: T for later fantasy action violence and some kissing scenes.

**Warnings:** Homophobia, fantasy violence.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson, or any other characters mentioned. Oh, if only...

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**Chapter 1**

'You have to _feel_ it,' said Mr Schuester. 'There's no use even trying to do Kinetic magic unless you're determined to succeed.'

Kurt scrunched up his eyebrows, willing the ball to spin with all his might. _If this isn't determination_, he thought, _I don't know what is_.

'You're doing great there, Kurt,' he heard Mr Schue comment. 'But you're trying too hard. Remember, _feel_ it. Don't force it.' He patted Kurt briskly on the shoulder, almost sending the putty ball flying out of his mental grasp, and wandered over to where Finn was sweating with the effort to even make his navy ball start to rotate.

Beside him, Rachel squealed excitedly. 'I've got it! Mr Schue, I've done it, Mr Schue! Look, it's a blur.' She held out the spinning pink blur for the rest of the class to see, eyes shining with pride.

'Well done, Rachel,' Mr Schue praised. 'Excellent work. Everyone, take a look at Rachel's ball. Yours should be getting that fast too, by now.'

Kurt sighed. It wasn't fair. He was definitely better than Rachel at magic, she just found Kinetic magic easy because she was a girl. Throughout all of Telepathic, Genetic, and Offence and Defence, they had been on par (although he had privately thought himself better, of course). But with Kinetic Rachel had the advantage, and he knew it was pointless to try and beat her.

Dragging his thoughts back to the lesson at hand, he concentrated on the ball. Rather than trying to make it spin, he simply let his mind flow – _easy, like in Telepathic_ – and eventually sensed the ball at the edge of his mental perception. He smiled, finally in control, and the ball's rotation sped up.

He let it spin and settled to watch the others in the class. Beside him, Mercedes' ball was slowly speeding up, becoming more and more of an orange blur. Tina, frowning, was staring at her ball as if she hoped it would move on its own, expression as dark as its colour. A couple of seats away, Santana and Brittany seemed to have forgotten about their purple and red balls in favour of playing with each other's hair as they chatted softly. Quinn, sitting alone, was silently rotating her silver ball, a serene expression on her face. Kurt noticed Joe shooting glances at her, his brown ball barely floating above his hand. Puck, Sam and Mike had abandoned their attempts at rotating a long time ago and were surreptitiously shooting tiny finger-flames at each other, Lauren watching in the background. He watched for a few minutes, mesmerized, at the intermittent flickering of black, gold and white flames.

He was interrupted from his observing as her heard a cry behind him and twisted round to see Artie bending over in his wheelchair as he reached for his green ball. He seemed to have dropped it.

'Here,' he said, picking it up and handing it back to him. 'Did you manage to do anything?'

Artie sighed and shook his head.

Kurt turned back to the centre podium as Mr Schue called them back to attention. 'Ok, everyone! Eyes in the middle! Thank you.' He picked up his dark red ball and held it up for them to see. 'Kinetic magic may sound easy,' he said. 'Who finds moving stuff around hard? Exactly. No one. But in reality, Kinetic is one of the hardest things to learn – you have to know how to feel and control an inanimate object with your mind.' He paused, threw the ball a foot into the air, and caught it hovering above his hand. 'I asked you to rotate your ball until it was a blur. You did – ok. Rachel, let's see what you've got.'

Beaming, Rachel leapt up and swept her way to the middle of the classroom. She smiled sickeningly at them and hovered her ball like Mr Schue had. 'It's really not as hard as it looks,' she said. 'All you have to do is just reach out and sense it, and then take control, and voila! – spinning ball. I mean, it's obviously easier for girls, everyone knows that, and I must say, I do have a slight advantage due to my high level of intellect and magical ability, so you may not all be able to perform to the standards that I have just demonstrated – ̕

'Ok, Rachel, I think that's enough.' Their teacher shooed her back to her seat. 'Well done everyone for today, you were good, and some of you were excellent.' He smiled in Kurt and Rachel's direction. 'So your assignment for next week is perfect blurred rotation and, if you think you're ready for it, transporting _whilst_ rotating.'

The loud sound of the tower bell rang through the classroom as the lesson ended. Kurt, in no particular hurry, grabbed his satchel, straightened his tunic, and followed Mercedes out of the door and into the courtyard.

The sun was streaming brightly down between the branches of the two huge oak trees that dominated the yard. Students milled around, lounging on the grass in the shade of the trees.

The crossed the courtyard and headed straight for the dining hall. Kurt joined the queue for food behind Mercedes, keeping a wary eye out for the large group of warriors that ruled the school. Seeing none, he relaxed, and turned back to Rachel.

He waited patiently as one of the kitchen girls dumped today's lunch – brown, slushy stew, as usual – into his bowl and he picked out a small loaf of bread to accompany it.

Just as he was turning to go and sit at his usual table, he stopped, frozen, before the hulking warrior directly in front of him.

'Hey, Hummel,' sneered Karofsky. 'Had fun in your little magic class? Enjoy being a _fairy_?'

Kurt seethed, willing himself to not make a witty comeback that would just result in his lunch being upended into his face.

Karofsky moved closer. 'You like it, huh? You like being a fairy, you disgusting little fa – ̕

'Karofsky! Dude! Coach'll hear you!' Azimio warned him.

Karofsky smirked, glancing over at where Coach Beiste was walking down an isle of tables. 'Later, Hummel,' he snickered, glancing at Beiste once more before hitting the bottom of Kurt's bowl and striding off.

The hot stew splashed all over Kurt's face, hair, and clothes. He spluttered, dropping his bowl, and wiped the stew out of his eyes.

'Oh, Boo,' he heard Mercedes croon.

He shook his head, hoping that the stew would distract anyone from the tears forming in his eyes. 'I'm going back to my room,' he gasped, before shoving his way through the crowd in the hall and out into the courtyard.

He hurried up to the dorms, skittering to a wobbly stop in front of his door and muttering the password. He heard the lock click and stumbled into his room, kicking the door shut behind him, and rushed to the bathroom. Opening the bottom of the large barrel that held the water, he filled the large bowl with it before leaning over and lowering his face into the cool liquid.

Kurt stood up, rubbing the water out of his eyes. He looked at himself in the large, stand-alone mirror. His hair was still sticky with stew and his dark red tunic was stained a disgusting shade of brown. He tugged it off, chucking it in the vague direction of the laundry chute (I_t's ruined now_, he thought, _I should have thrown it in the trash_) and pulled off his slightly stew-y pants.

He filled the metal tub with water, warming it as he poured, adding some soap to create bubbles. Taking off his underwear, he lowered himself into the warm water and felt his entire body relax.

It was only now that he let the tears in his eyes flow. This was the third time that week that Karofsky had got away with bullying him, the third time that the teachers and staff had stood by and watched as he was humiliated before the entire school.

He wasn't necessarily… angry. Sure, Coach Beiste could have done something just now, and the head chef Figgins had been standing right behind him last time Karofsky had thrown his porridge in his face. But he couldn't really blame them. Raise one finger against Karofsky and his bunch of warrior thugs and they would be fired before they knew it. It just wasn't fair when the father of the school's head bully was also the school's headmaster.

In reality, the only person who ever stood up to him was Coach Sylvester. Head of the school's Guerriere squad – female fighters who followed the warriors into the battle to support them, and more commonly known as Jerries – she exerted anough power and dominance to bend almost anyone to her will.

Unfortunately for Kurt, though, Sue was on the King's battle council and had little time for gay kids being bullied by warrior homophobes.

Occasionally, his half-brother Finn and his friends Sam, Mike and Puck had stood up for him, but too anxious to retain the status of 'popular' or 'badass', little had amounted of it. In his first year at the Academy, Puck had even been one of the guys who had pushed him into the moat every morning.

And whilst the girls were lovely, they had little influence over the crowd of warriors that followed Kurt around.

Kurt sighed and slid under the water to rinse his hair out. He just wished that there was one other person at school who understood what he was going through. What he felt. What he needed.

He sat up quickly as he heard a loud knock on his bedroom door.

'Who is it?' he called.

'It's me,' Rachel's voice answered. 'Can I come in?'

'Two seconds.' He got out of the bath and wrapped his fluffy robe around his thin frame. He strode out of the bathroom and opened the door for Rachel, who had a worried look on her face.

'Oh, Kurt, honey,' she murmured, taking in his bloodshot eyes and solemn features. 'Come here.'

She wrapped her arms around him and gently patted his back. Soon, she released him, and guided him over to his armchair to sit.

'I'm so sorry,' she muttered, sitting down at his feet. 'I'm sorry he treated you like that and I'm sorry that we never do anything to stop it.'

Kurt remained silent.

'Are you ok?' she ventured.

He shrugged and wiped a tear away from his eyes. 'Can you go, Rachel?' he muttered. 'I'm sorry, I just really want to be alone right now.'

Rachel looked only slightly hurt, but nodded anyway, patted his knees and left the room. Kurt continued staring ahead of him, looking at nothing, until he heard the end of lunch warning bell ring and jumped up to get dressed and not be late for his advanced Alchemy class.

He may have been the only and loneliest out guy in his entire town, but he wasn't going to allow that to stop him passing Alchemy.

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**A/N: So, I hope you enjoyed that! I'll try to update fairly regularly (once a week), but I am doing the IB, which is basically a death sentence. Please review, I'd love to hear what you think!**

**The title for this story is taken from Two Steps From Hell's song, _Magic of Love_. Go listen to it. It's epic.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok, here's Chapter 2! Enjoy :)**

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**Chapter 2**

The ball whizzed past Kurt's ear. He dodged it, dropping into a crouch and sending his own ball flying back towards Tina's head. It struck her temple and she let out a small cry, the rest of the class giving smattered applause.

It had been two and a half weeks since the incident with the stew, and in that time, Karofsky had shoved him into walls and trees, pushed him into the moat twice, emptied his soup bowl over his head, knocked his porridge out of his hands several times, and 'accidentally' shoved his bag off his shoulder, spilling books, Alchemy powders and various magic objects all over the floor.

It had got to the point that Kurt couldn't walk around alone anymore. His magic class – especially the warriors among them – had taken to escorting him everywhere. Mrs Schuester-Pillsbury (Mr Schue's wife), in charge of the students' quarters, had even offered to install a lock on his door (a privilege only the best students earned), but he had declined, perfectly capable of securing his room with magic.

But at the moment he was in his last magic class of his studentship. When he had demonstrated his skills, and completed the task that Mr Schue was going to set him, he would move on to his apprenticeship – at the end of which he would finally qualify as a warlock.

He stood up and received a firm clap on the shoulder from his teacher. 'Well done, Kurt, Tina. That was great.' He directed them back to their seats and strode off to the front of the classroom.

'Ok, everyone, you all did great.' He paused in anticipation. 'And I'm gonna pass you all.'

The class cheered, but Mr Schue silenced them by holding up a finger.

'I'll pass you _if_ you succeed as the task I give you.' Kurt glanced nervously across at Mercedes, eager to receive their task.

'To become an apprentice, you have to retrieve something for me.' He twisted his hand. A necklace appeared above his palm, emitting a strong, dark red glow. 'I've hidden fourteen of these around the province. To pass, you each have to find your one. You'll know it's yours because not only will it have your initials on it, it will also glow the Colour of your magic.'

Kurt smiled. If it was his Colour, then this would be simple retrieving magic an easy, Telepathic process. He should be excellent at it.

'I've made it a little harder for you, though,' warned Mr Schue. 'I've put a mask over the necklaces so that you can't use retrieving magic. You won't be able to sense your Colour from a distance.'

The class starting protesting at Mr Schue's antics and he smiled at their distress. 'I'll give you a few clues. Your first is your necklace's general area.'

He pulled out a list from his warlock's robe and read it out.

'Rachel, Santana, Mike and Lauren, yours are hidden on or near Ingen Mountain. Finn, Tina, Artie and Sam, yours are somewhere in Varrod City. Brittany, Quinn, Mercedes, Joe, yours are in the Western farmlands. And Puck and Kurt, yours are in Mothlem Forest. You'll receive your second clue when you get to your start point. You'll be using magic to track them and to survive. You have two weeks to find them, starting tomorrow at eight. Good luck!'

Kurt sighed. The Forest – just his luck. Not only was it cold and dirty and generally gross, it was also the largest area Mr Schue had just mentioned. And possibly the most dangerous.

He glanced across at Puck, whose face was stern. They both knew what they were in for.

As they were leaving the classroom, Puck sidled up to him. 'You nervous, dude?' he asked with a joking lilt to his voice.

Kurt rolled his eyes. 'No, Noah, I'm not nervous. This task is easily within my grasp.'

Puck laughed. 'Sure. Just as long as you help a bro out, ok?'

Kurt stopped walking and looked at him. 'Seriously? Seriously, Noah? You're asking me to help you?'

'Well… yeah. Bro to bro, you know.'

'Look. I understand if you feel that this task is difficult, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to help you. Mr Schue made it clear that this was individual. Besides, helping you would be cheating, and you need to be able to pass on your own.'

Puck's face dropped.

'Noah,' said Kurt, more gently, 'you're really good at magic. You'll be great at this. Don't worry.'

He patted his shoulder, straightened his bag strap and strode off in the direction of the stables.

The warm air inside the building greeted him as he stepped through the big wooden doors. The nickering of horses accompanied by the soft sound of chomping was soothing. The stables were one of his favourite places in the entire Academy. He could spend days in there, just sitting, watching and listening.

'Hey, Kurt,' greeted Rory, one of the stable boys, in his accented voice. 'Come to see Pippin?'

'Er, yeah. I have a two week long magic task in the forest, I'll need him for it.'

'Oh, brill. He's in the third row, fifth stall down.'

'Thanks.'

Kurt followed Rory's instructions, stopping outside Pippin's stall and gently calling out his horse's name. The beautiful, dapple-grey Akhal-Teke raised his head, peering at his owner with his blue eyes.

'Hey, beautiful,' said Kurt softly. He held out his hand. 'We're off on a big adventure tomorrow.'

Pippin stopped his eating and wandered over to Kurt. He nuzzled his hand affectionately and he stroked his nose.

'We're going into the forest,' continued Kurt. 'I have to find a necklace Mr Schue has hidden. We'll be riding there with Puck, ok? So you'll be seeing Mickey again too.' Puck had only had his horse for a few months now, and he had yet to make friends with the other magic class' horses.

Kurt patted Pippin's nose again. 'Well, I'd better go. I have to get ready for tomorrow. I'll be round at 7:30 to tack you up, ok?'

Pippin simply nuzzled his hand again.

'Ok, good boy,' said Kurt as he turned to leave.

He stopped beside the stall Rory was mucking out on his way back to his room. 'You know my entire magic class is going to want their horses tomorrow morning, right?' he asked.

Rory stood up, stretching his back, nodding.

'Ok, good. I'm gonna be down at 7:30 to tack up Pippin. If you want I can come down earlier and help you do the others?'

Rory smiled but shook his head. 'Nah, it's fine. I can cope. And I think more of you'll be doing their own tacking up, anyway. I shouldn't need to worry too much.' He paused, glancing around the nearly clean stall. 'Is Artie going to need Brom for the wagon?'

Kurt hesitated. 'I don't know. But he's travelling to the city with Finn, Tina and Sam, so they should be around to help.'

'Ok, great. See you tomorrow, Kurt.'

'See you.'

He left the stables and made his way back to his room, taking the long way round to avoid the warrior training grounds.

When he got back, he started sorting out everything he would need for the next two weeks. He put the necessities – his water bottle, a couple of blankets, his tinder box, his knife – in one pile, then made another pile for things he wanted to take but didn't absolutely need. He added another blanket, a foldable tent, and a couple of books.

When he had sorted his two piles, he opened his wardrobe, thinking about what clothing to take. What he wore was always important to him, so he couldn't be badly dressed, even for a two week trip into the Forest. He selected six tunics in green and brown colours (unfortunately, they were all fairly plain – he didn't want to ruin any of his beautiful embroidered tunics by snagging them on twigs) and several pairs of simple pants, along with some underwear. He added his leather leggings and two leather vests to the pile. Finally, he unhooked his dark green cloak from the wall and draping it on his bed beside the two piles.

He managed to condense most of it down into one and a half saddle bags, leaving room for whatever rations of food they would be given. His blankets and tent would have to be strapped to his saddle.

As prepared as he could be for the day ahead, he went down to dinner, stopping next door at Rachel and Mercedes' room to walk down with them.

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The next morning, he woke up at precisely 6:34 am, with butterflies in his stomach.

He went about his morning routine of washing and dressing quickly, his nerves still fluttering as he headed down for breakfast at 7. The rest of his magic class were already there, eating quickly and fairly silently. He sat down between Mercedes and Tina.

When they had finished breakfast, he hurried back up to his room to grab his stuff and check he hadn't forgotten anything. Swinging the saddlebags over his shoulders and grabbing the tent and blankets, his eyes swept around the room. Everything was in order, and he had everything he needed. He didn't need to worry. This task was going to be over and done with in two weeks and he could start his apprenticeship. He was going to be fine. He was also going to be late if he didn't hurry up.

Locking his door behind him, he dashed down to the stables.

He dropped his stuff by Pippin's stall and briefly groomed him – a simple once-over with the body brush. He was delayed finding Pip's long-distance saddle by various other magic students also looking for tack and everyone getting very confused about whose reigns were whose. Eventually he found Pippin's things, but he had lost the girth, and had to borrow one of Quinn's – her mare was approximately the same size as Pippin. Finally, his horse was all tacked up and ready to go.

He led his fully-loaded horse out to the courtyard in front of the stables. Various students, parents and stable hands were milling around, preparing everything for their departure.

He saw his father and Carole over by the water barrels, chatting with Finn – who looked very impressive in his warrior's travel leather, clutching at Wilf's reigns, his sword strapped to his horse's saddle. Kurt hurried over to them, dragging Pippin along behind him.

'Hey Kiddo!' cried Burt, engulfing his son in a hug. 'Haven't seen you in three weeks! Why don't you come home more often?'

'You know why, Dad. I have tons of work, and it's easier to stay at school. But don't worry, I _do_ miss you.'

Burt let out a gruff laugh. 'Sure. Next thing we know you'll be off, working for the King's court in Varrod, and I'll be seeing you twice a year.'

Kurt rolled his eyes and hugged Carole, giving her a kiss on the cheek. She smiled sweetly at him. 'I hope you boys enjoy yourselves,' she said. 'It's a pretty hard task.'

Finn looked like he was about to confirm her, but Kurt shrugged. 'We'll be fine,' he said. 'Besides, Finn, you're in Varrod. There are loads of people – plenty of lovely, _female_ people – there who I'm sure will be _dying_ to help you.'

Finn shot a scathing glance at his brother, who simply raised an eyebrow and turned back to his dad. 'I'm in the Forest,' he said on a more serious tone.

A shadow crossed Burt's face. The dangers of the Forest had impacted both of their lives in a tragic way when Kurt had been eight. He and his dad hadn't visited it since.

Behind them, Mr Schue had climbed onto a crate and was calling out for everyone to collect their food rations. Kurt handed Pippin to his father, who stood at a wary distance from the horse, and went to get a large packet of dried meat, fruit and two loaves of bread from Sugar, one of the kitchen maids.

He managed to fit it into his saddlebag and checked his timepiece. It was nearly eight – nearly time to go. He hugged Carole again and received a kiss, then hugged his dad.

'You be safe,' Burt whispered as they embraced. 'The Forest is a dangerous place.'

'Dad, I'm nearly eighteen.'

'I know, but just because you're almost a man doesn't mean that I'll be able to let go of the image of a scared, eight year old boy running from a pack of wolves.'

They were both silent, remembering that horrible day – the howls, the mad rush of terror, the screams as Elizabeth twisted her ankle and fell to the ground…

'I will be, Dad. I'll be safe.' They hugged again, then Burt was creating a step for Kurt to mount Pippin with his hands, and he was seated high on his stallion's back. Burt patted his knee again, then stood back as Puck approached on Brom.

'You ready, bro?' he asked.

'As ready as I'll ever be.'

And casting one look back at Burt and Carole, he followed Mr Schue out of the gate.

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**A/N: And they're off! For those of you eager to meet Blaine, don't worry, he should appear in the next chapter.**

**Also, yes, all the horses in this are named after various fictional characters. There will be more horse names popping up throughout the story - well done if you can name all the films/books/shows they're from!  
**

**Pippin looks like this: ********25 _._ media . tumblr _dot com_/tumblr_mbu9z04qO61roo0i6o1_500 . jpg****_  
_**


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, this seems to be updating a lot faster than I expected. IB students are supposed to use their frees for _work_, not writing fanfiction!  
**

**Enjoy!  
**

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**Chapter 3**

The horses stomped their feet, their whinnies creating white puffs of steam in the brisk morning air.

Kurt shivered and rubbed his arms. 'Hurry up!' he called in the direction of the inn. Puck emerged, pulling the hood of his cloak up over his nearly-bald head.

'Calm down, dude,' he said irritably. 'We've got plenty of time.'

Kurt huffed. 'We're supposed to be at the outskirts of the Forest in half an hour!' Come on!'

Puck shook his head, mounting Mickey. They left the lonely inn at a canter, heading towards the dark green line on the horizon.

After leaving the Academy the previous day, Mr Schue had accompanied them to the edge the village. They had split up into their separate groups, exchanging hugs and good lucks, before setting off in the directions of their respective areas.

Kurt and Puck had ridden throughout the day, stopping briefly for lunch in a small village. It had grown colder the further north they went, and by the time they reached the inn near the edge of the forest, it was dark and freezing. They had rented a single room to save money, argued over who was sleeping on the bed, and eventually decided to splash out and get a twin room instead. Puck had snored, keeping Kurt awake half the night, and had woken him earlier than he needed by falling out of bed. It was perfectly reasonable why they were both in a bad mood.

They rode in silence, cloaks flying out behind them as they sped across the dry land. A small river, bridged by a dodgy-looking stone structure, traced the edge of the Forest. They crossed it and drew to a halt beside the wagon and three cold-looking men waiting for them.

'Hi,' Kurt said as he dismounted. He led Pippin over to the men and held out his hand. They ignored him, and he dropped his arm.

One of the men stepped forward, holding two small pouches. 'These are your next clue,' he grunted. 'One each.' He handed Kurt the blue pouch and gave the black one to Puck. 'There's a compass inside that will always point in the direction of your necklace.'

'Is that it?' asked Puck, pulling out the brass compass.

'Puck, this more than enough.' Kurt gave him a stern look and turned back to the man. 'Thank you.'

The man nodded and climbed back on to the wagon. He raised a hand briefly, then flicked the reigns and started back towards the river.

Kurt and Puck were left alone at the edge of the trees.

'Well,' Puck said, peering down at his compass. 'We'd better get going.' He turned round slowly, following the direction his compass was pointing, until he was facing south. 'I'm this way. You?'

Kurt opened his pouch and took out his compass. It was cool to the touch, sending a slight tingle through his fingers that he always associated with magic.

'North,' he said, facing away from puck. 'Great, even colder.'

They turned back to each other. 'I guess this is goodbye, then?' asked Puck.

Kurt shrugged, glancing down, until he was suddenly pulled into a hug by the other boy. 'Good luck, bro,' he said.

Kurt pulled himself out of Puck's arms, stepping back. 'Ok, whoa there. Bye.' He tapped his fingers to his forehead, gave Puck a small smile, and swung himself up onto Pippin's back. He waved to him, then urged his horse to a canter as he followed the Forest's edge. After a few minutes, he turned round to see Puck galloping away in the opposite direction.

He and Pip were alone – and would be for the next two weeks.

* * *

Kurt tugged on Pippin's reigns gently, slowing him. The thin blue needle of his compass was wavering, until suddenly, it swung to the right, pointing into the Forest. He stopped Pippin and peered through the trees.

He couldn't see very far – the trees grew too thick. The trees at the edge of the Forest were more shrubby, the undergrowth thick. Further in, the trunks grew higher and were spaced farther apart, their leaves leaving little gaps which the dull grey daylight fell through.

Kurt moved along the edge until he found a clearing in the undergrowth. Nervously, he twitched Pippin's reigns, and plunged into the forest's darkness.

It was like the line of trees formed a barrier between the inside of the Forest and the outside world. As soon as he was under the trees' cover, everything became deathly silent, broken only by the soft crunch of Pippin's hooves on the leafy ground. From outside it had seemed fairly bright, but once within, the only light was the dull grey glow that managed to seep through the canopy above.

Kurt steered Pippin through the trees, his breath coming short and fast. He wasn't scared. Why would he be scared? This was just a forest. A simple, harmless forest full of squirrels and badgers and deer and _wolves_…

He jumped suddenly as he heard a sharp crack to his right. Twisting round in the saddle, he peered into the gloom, searching for the source of the noise. Muttering a curse under his breath when he saw nothing, he pressed on, urging Pippin to a fast walk as he followed his compass through the trees.

They followed a faint path in the undergrowth, occasionally ducking under branches or stepping over roots. Soon, Kurt's sense accustomed to the sounds and sights of the woods, and he could pick out the gentle rustling of a scavenging mouse, the chirping of high-up birds, see a curious squirrel watching him from an overhead branch and a silent doe slinking along a little ahead of him.

After he had ridden for a couple of hours, deeper and deeper into the Forest, his stomach began grumbling loudly and he stopped to have lunch. Although he could hunt, trap and scavenge to a fair extent (all students were taught to do so in their compulsory Physical lessons), he needed to start rationing his food now to make it last as long as possible.

He ate some of his bread (which would go stale quickly) and some dried beef, followed by one of the fresh apples he had brought, and washed it down with water. His bottle was nearly empty. He hadn't come across a stream yet, and they only learnt to _make_ water in Genetic during their apprenticeship. _This could be problematic_, he mused. _I should have refilled it at the river outside_.

Kurt and Pippin continued riding as the afternoon wore on, the forest briefly brightening when the sun came out above, soon to be followed by the greys and blues of dusk. When it was too dark to see more than twenty feet ahead of him, Kurt decided to stop for the night. He found a smallish clearing fairly quickly and mounted his tent before it got too dark to see. He tied Pippin to a tree, leaving him enough slack to move around the clearing, and built a small fire at the entrance to his tent.

Now that he didn't need to concentrate on following his compass and leading Pippin, he felt the darkness of the Forest and the terror that it brought creep up on him.

Drowsily watching the flames dance, he let his eyelids droop, trying to quell the uneasy feeling about spending the night in the woods. He still remembered that day, almost ten years ago now, when he and his parents had gone out for two weeks' camping in the Forest.

_They loaded the large tent into the wagon, bundled up with blankets, food, warm clothes and Burt's prized sword. Kurt sat up front, between his parents, and chattered excitedly as they drove._

_They trekked through the forest on foot for several days, following deer trails, Elizabeth using her magic to leave a faint blue line behind them so that they could find their way out. They set up camp in a large clearing under a huge, gnarled oak tree. The day was spent splashing in the stream that ran through the clearing and climbing in the branches of the oak tree. Elizabeth's laughter as her son and husband chased each other around the clearing was contagious, and soon they all ended up in a huge pile, giggling._

_Later in the evening, they sat around the fire, Kurt wrapped up tight in his mother's arms, watching the blue and orange flames that she had created dance in the darkness._

'_What's it like to have magic, Mom?' Kurt asked._

_Elizabeth smiled. 'You'd love it,' she answered. 'You would spend all your time trying to read other people's minds and making toy dragons out of thin air.'_

'_No, Mommy,' Kurt protested. 'Unicorns.'_

'_Ok, making unicorns, then. You would make beautiful works of art, which were uniquely yours, because they would be the Colour of your magic.'_

'_Why is magic Colour special, Mommy?'_

'_It's special because of all the people in the entire world, only you have that Colour.'_

'_Your Colour is blue, Mommy!'_

'_Yes, darling, that's right.'_

_They settled back down to watch the flames when a loud howl erupted into the night._

_Burt glanced anxiously at Elizabeth, his fingers stretching towards the pommel of his sword. Kurt felt her grasp around him tighten as more howls followed, closer._

'_Kurt, I want you to stay with your mom, ok?' said Burt. 'She'll protect you.' He drew his sword, the shrill scrape of the metal against the top of the sheath sending shivers down Kurt's spine. Several more howls resounded, swiftly followed by a crashing sound as strong, clawed feet charged through the undergrowth._

_Then suddenly, the wolves were upon them._

Kurt woke up with a jerk, fingers fumbling as he scrambled for his knife, finally grasping it and holding it out in front of his face.

The clearing was just as he had left it. Pippin watched him with wary eyes as he chomped the grass in the dull dawn light. Kurt sighed, sheathing his dagger, and dragged himself to his feet. He had yet another long day's ride to endure, so he might as well start as soon as possible.

He ate another apple for breakfast and finished his water. He packed up quickly, not wanting to waste time, and was up on Pip's back before the sun had fully risen.

He seemed to have moved into a different part of the Forest now. The tall, threatening pine trees were slowly being replaced by broadleaves, oaks and maples and aspens. They let more light in, and soon Kurt was riding along a bright green and yellow trail.

After a few hours riding, he finally heard the sound of a river. Grinning in relief, he turned Pippin off the track and towards the source of the noise.

A couple of minutes later, he emerged from the trees and found himself standing on the edge of a large, wide, river.

Kurt dismounted and led Pippin to the water's edge, letting his horse drink his fill. The water looked inviting, he thought as he waited.

Glancing up and down – wait, why was he checking? There was no-one around, he was in the middle of _Mothlem Forest_, for goodness' sake – he unclasped his cloak and quickly undressed. He waded into the cool water, grimacing at the thought that he hadn't washed in _two and a half days_.

He swam about a little, ducking his head under to rinse his hair, before getting out and drying himself with his cloak. He pulled his clothes back on, shivering, and wrapped himself up in a blanket before plopping down by the water to eat lunch.

Just as he was about to bite down in his rather unappetising cold pork, cheese and nearly-stale-bread sandwich, he heard a loud crunch behind him.

He spun around, dropping his sandwich, and looked up and down the tree line. There was a slight movement off to his right and he twisted his head towards it, drawing his knife as a blue powerball appeared above his left hand.

Suddenly the _thing_ moved again, and he caught sight of a slight, dappled-brown-and-green figure crouching at the treeline. He stood up, wary, and held out his sword.

'Whatever you are,' he warned, holding his knife out and brandishing his palm, 'I'm armed and a damn good fighter at that. Come any closer and I'll kill you.'

The figure twitched, then moved, and Kurt realised it was a person, and they were standing up.

The person held out their hands above their head, then slowly stepped forward. Kurt tensed.

'I'm not going to hurt you.' They were male.

'I – I don't believe you. Stay back.' Kurt waved his knife at him again.

'Please, trust me. I'm not going to hurt you.' He reached up and dropped his hood. Kurt nearly dropped his jaw.

Because, _wow_. If that wasn't the hottest – cutest – most beautiful guy Kurt had ever seen.

He was watching Kurt warily with his big, hazel eyes, soft black curls just dusting across the top of his forehead. He had a strong, well-defined jaw, and perfect, _oh-so-kissable_ lips. He was covered from neck to toe in brown and green leather, but from what Kurt could see of his neck and bare forearms, he reckoned he must have a pretty good body too.

Kurt realised he was gaping and promptly shut his mouth. He lowered his knife and hand and saw the other boy visibly relax.

Kurt dropped the invisible barrier he had created between them and stepped forward slowly. He held out his hand cautiously.

A smile appeared at the corner of the boy's eyes as their hands met, and his hands were so _warm_ and slightly rough and it sent a funny chill down Kurt's spine.

'I'm Kurt Hummel,' he managed to splutter, surprised his vocal chords were still working.

'Blaine,' said the other boy warmly, squeezing Kurt's hand firmly. 'Blaine Anderson.'

* * *

**Yay, Blainers arrived! More about him in the next chapter (duh).  
**

**Again, please do review! I love constructive criticism, so if you think something's a bit off, don't hesitate to tell me. And I'm always around if you have any questions, too.  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**So, a slightly shorter chapter this time, it just sort of came to a natural stopping place... Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Kurt dropped his hand. It still felt like it tingled a bit.

'What are you doing here?' he asked, still cautious of this gorgeous albeit complete stranger in front of him.

'I might ask you the same thing.' Blaine tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. 'What is a young Warlock doing _alone_ in Mothlem Forest?'

Kurt considered the young man in front of him, unsure of whether he was worthy of his trust. 'I'm not a Warlock,' he said, deciding to try not to tell him too much.

Blaine's forehead creased. 'But…' he gestured at Kurt's hand.

Kurt sighed. 'I'm a Warlock-in-training,' he said – surely _that_ wasn't too much, right?

'Oh! Like, an apprentice?'

'Er, yeah. Or at least, I will be once I've finished this task –' He stopped himself. That was going too far.

'Task?' Blaine's triangular eyebrows raised, and he seemed genuinely interested.

Kurt shook his head and turned away, looking up and down the river.

'You can trust me, you know,' Blaine said gently, and Kurt _wanted_ to believe him, _wanted_ to have a proper conversation with him about it, but they were in the middle of _Mothlem forest_, for goodness' sake, you can't just spill out your life story to a complete stranger in the middle of the Forest.

'Can we sit down?' Blaine asked, and Kurt nodded, and followed him over to a rock at the water's edge.

He noticed Blaine glancing over at his sandwich – still lying uneaten with his saddlebags – and felt his stomach rumble.

'Are you hungry?' he asked.

Blaine nodded quite enthusiastically, so Kurt got up and brought the bags over. He handed his sandwich to Blaine.

'But what about you?'

Kurt pulled a fairly-bruised apple out of his bag. 'I'll be fine.'

They began to eat silently, looking out at the river.

Blaine shifted uneasily. 'I've been following you since you entered the Forest,' he confessed.

Kurt spluttered, gasping as his apple threatened to choke him. Blaine thumped him on the back as he coughed, finally dislodging the apple, and Kurt coughed some more, eyes watering.

'You – what?'

'I was on my way back from the river. You rode past, I was curious, I followed you.' He shrugged as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

'But – how – why didn't I hear you? Or see you?'

'I think you did, a couple of times. But I'm fairly good concealing myself.'

Kurt raised his eyebrows, prompting him to elaborate.

'I'm a scout.'

'Oh.'

A scout. Huh. Scouts in his part of the Kingdom were few and far apart, unneeded in the open fields and during this time of peace. He wondered where Blaine was from – he didn't have any kind of foreign accent.

'Why –'

'I'm –'

'Sorry. Go on.'

'I don't live in the Kingdom,' Blaine said quietly.

Kurt nodded. He had expected as much, but the confirmation didn't make it any easier to trust him.

'So, where _do_ you live?'

'In the Forest,' he answered simply.

'Right.'

They sat in silence as Blaine finished the sandwich and Kurt finished his apple. He tossed the core into the river and stood up.

'We – I should get a move on.'

'We?'

Kurt mentally kicked himself for his slip. 'I meant _I_. I should get going.'

'To do your task.' It was a statement, more than a question.

Kurt huffed in frustration and began to strap the saddlebags back onto Pippin. He checked the tightness of the girth and started to mount him.

'Can I come with you?' Blaine asked.

Kurt stopped, one foot in the stirrup, one on the ground. He sighed, looking over at Blaine under his arm – both his hands were on the saddle.

'Come on,' Blaine said. 'I can hunt and scavenge and track and trap, and better two than one if anything attacks, right?'

Kurt was tempted. He really was. Blaine was nice and friendly and would be handy to have around, not to mention the fact that he was drop-dead _gorgeous_. But he still remained wary.

'How do I know I can trust you?' The scepticism in his voice was evident.

'Because I had about forty different opportunities to kill you in the past half hour and I didn't. I've been following you for two days and I haven't.'

'You're not from the Kingdom.'

'So?'

'You might be an enemy.'

'I'm really not.' Kurt could see the sincerity in his eyes.

He dillied and dallied for a few more moments, still watching Blaine. Finally, he came to a decision.

'Fine. Do you have a horse?'

Blaine's face immediately lit up in a huge grin that made Kurt's stomach flutter and he nodded enthusiastically. He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly. A few moments of silence later, the foliage of the treeline began to rustle, and suddenly, a little horse emerged.

It was a dun Connemara, with black socks and mane and tail. The pony nickered and trotted over to Blaine, who laughed as it nuzzled his chest.

'This is Merry,' he said. 'Finest little stallion in the Forest.'

Kurt smiled and reached out to greet Merry. The pony sniffed his hand a couple of times, then immediately began to nuzzle his chest.

'Oh, wow, ok!' Kurt cried gently, laughing a little at the tickling sensation. 'Good boy… Merry.'

Blaine grinned again and tugged Merry away from Kurt. 'Come on, you goofball,' he teased. 'Let Kurt go.'

They both mounted their horses and watched as Merry and Pippin interacted. They seemed to be getting along quite well.

Kurt looked down at Blaine (about a foot lower than him because of their horses' height difference), who smiled. 'Lead the way,' he said.

He squeezed Pippin's sides with his ankles and rode back into the Forest.

* * *

Travelling with Blaine was different from travelling alone.

The previous heavy and foreboding silence that had filled the Forest was broken by their voices and laughter. He wasn't as worried about being attacked – as Blaine had said, it would be a lot easier to fight off wolves or bears with two pairs of hands, not to mention that Blaine was a _scout_ – and he now knew what those movements in the corner of his eye or snapping twigs had been. The afternoon seemed to pass in a blur as they talked and rode.

Having decided to mostly trust Blaine, Kurt told him about his school and friends and magic class. He divulged the nature of his quest to him, showing him the compass he was following. Blaine examined it closely, fascinated, then tested it by turning round in circles. Kurt told him about how the necklace was his Colour and therefore directly linked to his psyche.

And likewise, Blaine told Kurt about himself. He was seventeen, and had been scouting for a year and a half. He lived in the Forest – he wouldn't say exactly _where_, but Kurt supposed he wouldn't recognise it anyway – and spent his days hunting or tree climbing or riding Merry. He told Kurt about his favourite place to go, a large clearing where he could watch the stars at night, and about how some days he would go down to the river near his house and just sit and watch the dragonflies and pond skaters and frogs.

When Kurt asked him about his family, he stopped talking and looked away silently. Kurt didn't press any further.

They stopped at dusk just a little off the path they had been following and Blaine helped Kurt build a fire and set up his tent. He himself didn't have one; he simply spread out a blanket roll beside the fire, using a saddlebag as a pillow. They roasted parsnips over the bare flames and ate them with Kurt's dried pork and Blaine's waybread.

When they had finished and cleaned the dishes, they sat on either sides of the fire, talking. There was so much to know about each other. Blaine showed Kurt how to swipe his hand through the flames, fast enough to not get burnt and yet slow enough to leave a dark deposit on his skin. Kurt showed Blaine how he could turn the flames different colours with his magic, watching the amused expression on Blaine's face as he turned them blue, green, purple, red, black and pink. They talked about how they both loved horses, how disgusting cold stew was, and how uncomfortable chainmail could be. Blaine described how annoying it was when he was trapping and accidently got caught in his own traps, causing Kurt to laugh out loud. Kurt confessed how he had attempted to grow a plum tree in Telepathic and how the plums had turned out poisonous, giving his entire magic class stomach cramps for a week.

Eventually, Blaine started yawning, and Kurt realised he could feel his eyelids drooping too. They decided to call it a night and each retreated into their own beds.

Kurt laid on his back, looking up at the canvas ceiling of the tent, a small smile playing on his lips. Never had he thought that his task would turn out to be quite so… interesting. Blaine was fascinating. He'd never met a scout before, only seen them occasionally at the annual Academy festival or the one time he had visited Varrod. Having one travelling with him and telling him about what it was like was… amazing. He had never realised quite how specialised they were.

And it wasn't just the fact that he was a scout. Blaine _himself_ had so much to say, to tell him and to show him. What he had let on about his personal life was all so _different_ from what Kurt was used to, it just made him want to get to know him better.

He drifted off to sleep, thoughts of the boy lying outside his tent still crowding his mind and dreams.

* * *

**A/N: Oohoohoo, scout!Blaine, yummy yummy.**

**Again, for an idea of what Merry looks like, go here: 25 . media . tumblr _dot com_/93eff8595a80312cdd5c80a675df 017d/tumblr_mioqbnjrLM1riffhho1_500 . jpg**

**Please review! I'd really like to know what you think - this is my first fanfic - and I do love constructive criticism!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey! Sorry I'm updating this a bit later than I have been, I've had a really busy week and I was ill yesterday as well... Anyway, it's the holidays now, so although I'm very busy, I should hope to update a bit more. **

**I really enjoyed writing this chapter, especially the second half, so I hope you enjoy reading it too! I was listening to Run Boy Run by Woodkid whilst writing this (/watch?v=lmc21V-zBq0), so feel free to check that out if you want to! It's amazing.**

**Anyway, I'll shut up and let you read :)**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

When Kurt woke the next morning, he could feel the sunlight streaming onto his face, warming it. He was cosy and fairly comfortable and he didn't want to get up, so he just rolled over onto his other side, deciding that breakfast and seeing Rachel and Mercedes could wait. He was tired and sated and sleepy.

The smell of cooking eggs drifted past his face, and he breathed it in, confused. He couldn't smell the kitchens from his bedroom.

Then he realised that his bedroom was in fact miles and miles away and that he was lying in a tent on the ground in Mothlem Forest, and he wouldn't be seeing Rachel and Mercedes for another two weeks.

He rolled over again and blinked his eyes open, the delicious smell stronger when he was facing this way. Blaine must have woken up early to get cooking already.

_Blaine_.

He sat up quickly, his head hitting the canvas ceiling of his tent and he ducked down, patting his hair. He pulled off his blanket and shrugged a jacket on over his tunic, then crawled out of the tent.

Blaine was sitting by the fire, humming quietly as he poked at the eggs lying on a flat rock beside the fire. He looked up when Kurt emerged, slight smile broadening to a grin. Kurt smiled back and shuffled over to the fire, wrapping his arms around his knees and watching in silence whilst Blaine finished frying the eggs. When they were about done, Kurt fished two plates out of a saddlebag for him and helped him serve.

'Good night's sleep?' asked Blaine.

Kurt nodded, taking his plate from him. 'Yeah, as good as you can get in a forest. You?'

'The usual.'

Kurt wasn't sure what that meant, but he assumed Blaine had slept well too and didn't press the matter any further. 'Where did you get the eggs?' he asked.

'Bird's nest up that tree.' He pointed to one of the trees that bordered the clearing. 'Are they done enough?'

'Yeah, they're delicious, thanks.'

'Good.'

They finished their breakfast and Blaine offered to wash up the plates, but Kurt refused, taking them away from the camp and sloshing them with the water from Pippin's small water sack. When he was done Blaine helped him pack up his tent and they saddled their horses, preparing to leave.

Kurt pulled out the compass as they left the clearing, turning Pippin until they were riding Northeast through the trees.

They travelled all day, not talking as much as they had previously – the excitement of just meeting hadn't worn off yet, but they weren't as hurried to know as much about the other as possible. They mainly just talked about the Forest and what was going on around them. Kurt told Blaine some more about his task and Blaine showed Kurt the disassemblable bow that he kept strapped to Merry's saddle.

They stopped and camped for the evening again, Blaine refusing when Kurt offered him his tent. He said he preferred to be able to see the stars.

The next day was much the same, but the compass started glowing brighter. When they stopped for the night and Kurt set it down by the fire, it was nearly vibrating. He smiled excitedly at Blaine.

'We're getting close.'

And indeed they were. By the mid-morning the next day, the compass was vibrating so much and glowing such a bright shade of electric blue that Kurt had to wrap it up to hold it.

They soon came to a steep rise in the ground where the undergrowth thinned away and the ground became rocky. Blaine looked up the slope, then back at Kurt.

'I think we should leave the horses here,' he suggested. 'That'll be hard for them to navigate.'

Kurt nodded in agreement. 'And we're probably going to find it today, so we won't have to walk for long.'

The tied the horses to a tree, propping the water sack open for them and making sure they had enough rope to eat the small tufts of grass that grew around the bases of the trees. Kurt tied the compass to his belt, checked his knife, and hitched a daysack containing food and water around his shoulders. He watched Blaine unstrap his bow and assemble it – without stringing it – then slide it into a quiver he slung across his back. He pulled a long knife out of his saddlebag and slid it into his belt.

'Ready?' Kurt asked.

'Ready.'

They set off up the slope at a steady pace. It was steeper and longer than they had originally thought it was, and Kurt found himself having to pull himself up with tree roots and branches at several occasions. It was a good thing they hadn't brought the horses.

They were both panting by the time they reached the top, and Blaine sagged down against a tree trunk. He laughed breathily, shaking his head. Kurt nodded and they caught their breath for a few minutes before Blaine straightened up. 'Let's go,' he said.

The trees at the top of the slope were older and bigger than the ones lower down. Kurt wondered if they were in an older part of the Forest, or if it was just that these trees were higher up and got more sunlight. In any case, it made navigating them a lot easier.

By now, the compass was going absolutely haywire, jittering about it Kurt's hand as he held it out in front of him, squinting to shield his eyes from the bright blue light.

'We're definitely close,' he said to Blaine. 'It can't be more than a mile away.'

Blaine nodded as his face lit up with excitement. 'Then let's go find it!' he exclaimed, striding off in the direction the compass was pointing. Kurt laughed at him under his breath for a few seconds, appreciating how he walked, then hurried to catch up with him.

They continued through the trees for about fifteen more minutes until Blaine stopped.

'There,' he said, pointing in front of him. 'Through those trees. A blue light.'

Kurt grinned at him and they hurried through the last few trees until they broke through a tangle of branches into a large clearing.

* * *

Kurt glanced up, his eyes flickering to the blue light on the far side of the clearing. He looked around. A stream ran through the grass over to their right, a large tree dominating the area as it spread out its huge, ancient limbs…

Kurt's stomach dropped as it hit him. He knew where they were. He had been here before.

He gasped, clutching at thin air until his hand felt Blaine's shoulder and he clung on for dear life. He knees felt like they were going to give out. His head was swimming. He was going to be sick.

'Kurt? Kurt? Are you okay?' Blaine grasped his shoulders, forcing him to look at him. 'Kurt, what's going on?'

Kurt simply shook his head, covering his mouth with his hands until he couldn't take it anymore and forced himself to turn away from Blaine to be sick all over the ground.

He fell to his knees as his stomach heaved, the bile leaving a strong acid taste in his mouth. When he was done, he swallowed hard, and looked up at Blaine with fuzzy eyes, shaking. Blaine's face was the picture of concern as he kneeled beside him and gently took his hands.

'Kurt? Are you okay? No, you're not – are you ill? What is it?'

Kurt shook his head until he was able to speak again. He looked at Blaine as his voice quivered then broke.

'This – this clearing – is – where my mother died.'

Blaine's eyes opened in shock and he pulled Kurt towards him, circling his arms around him. Kurt pressed his face into his shoulder, still shaking from the sheer shock of it all. He didn't know why he had reacted so badly, but it really hadn't felt good.

Blaine pulled away from him and looked him in the eye. 'Look,' he said. 'We don't need to stay here any longer than necessary. We'll just grab the necklace and go, okay? I can go and get it, you don't even have to come.'

Kurt shook his head again. 'No – no – you won't be able to touch it yet,' he croaked, then cleared his throat and sat up properly. 'I need to unColour it first. But – can – can you come with me?'

'Of course,' said Blaine, and he pulled them both to their feet.

Kurt wiped his chin and looked down at the puddle of vomit. 'Gross,' he muttered, then shook off the unease his was still feeling. 'Come on.'

They hurried across the clearing, Kurt trying to look around as little as possible – _that was where we made our fire _ – to keep his stomach from swooping again – _that was where Mom showed me how she could make plants grow_ – and finally reached the necklace.

It was hovering about five feet in the air, rotating slowly, shining a bright, electric blue. Kurt could feel it, could feel his Colour in the air. It felt familiar and like home and his magic class, and soothed his insides.

'This could take a while,' he said to Blaine, who nodded and sat down on the grass to wait.

Kurt flicked his fingers at the necklace, encountering an invisible barrier as he thought he would. He started muttering under his breath as he recited the freeing spell Mr Schue had taught them in Telepathic, until the barrier broke down and the necklace fell to the ground. He bent down and picked it up. It felt warm to the touch. He turned round to show Blaine, but was interrupted by an ear-piercing, bone-chilling howl.

Blaine leapt to his feet immediately, grabbing his bow out of the quiver and stringing it in record time. He nocked an arrow and stood beside Kurt, who had summoned a ball of fire, now shivering above his palm.

More howls. Several shivers ran down Kurt's spine and he inched closer to Blaine.

Then suddenly there was a loud crash and the tree line nearest to them was broken by a dozen huge, growling wolves.

'The tree!' cried Kurt, already running towards it. Blaine sped past him, twisting backwards and loosing an arrow in the wolves' direction. Kurt didn't know if it hit but he followed Blaine's example and shot a stream of fire over his shoulder at them. He heard a whimper and tried again, stumbling over the ground.

They were getting nearer to the tree. The ground was strewn with roots and branches and leaves. Blaine soared over it easily, sending another arrow back at the wolves. Kurt twisted round again and shot another stream of fire at them. It just flew over one of their shoulders.

Suddenly he felt his foot catch and fell to the ground, scrambling as he tried to dislodge his foot and get away. The wolves couldn't have been more than fifty feet away by now and were approaching fast.

'Blaine!' he cried, still jiggling his leg and only succeeding to get it more stuck. 'Help!'

Blaine stopped running, panic clouding his features as he realised that Kurt wasn't beside him anymore and that he was in fact lying trapped several feet behind. He ran back and started pulling at the root holding down Kurt's foot. Finally, Kurt felt it lift just enough, and he pulled his foot out.

'Go!' shouted Blaine.

Kurt needed no further prompting, already flying across the uneven ground. He reached the base of the tree and swung himself up onto the first low branch, then scrambling up onto a higher one.

Below him, Blaine crashed against the tree and pulled himself onto the first branch. The wolves had finally caught up.

Blaine only just pulled himself onto the second branch in time to avoid having his ankle bitten off by the sharp, clacking teeth.

They climbed higher, high enough that the wolves were the size of cats, and sat down cautiously on one of the thick branches. They were both panting heavily. Kurt could see that Blaine's face was red, and guessed that his was too. How embarrassing.

'Are you okay?' Blaine panted at him.

Kurt nodded. He was physically unharmed, but he had just avoided dying the same way his mother had, and he couldn't get the images of her out of his head. He let his head drop back against the tree trunk, trying to block out the sounds of the wolves' gnarls and barks below and ignore his mother's screams that were running through his head. He felt a lump begin to form in his throat and willed himself not to cry.

'You're not okay,' Blaine said simply, moving closer to him on the branch. 'Do you want to talk?'

'Not right now,' Kurt breathed.

He felt Blaine take his hand – the one he realised his was still gripping the necklace in. He opened up his palm and frowned at it.

'Are you going to unColour it?' asked Blaine.

'No, I should probably leave it for Mr Schue to see. But then I will. It's a nice necklace.'

Blaine nodded and they fell back to silence, trying to ignore the sounds from below. Eventually, Kurt looked up at Blaine again.

'So what now?' he asked.

'Now,' Blaine said grimly, 'we wait.'

* * *

**So there you go. I'll try and update maybe Tuesday? I'm going out tomorrow and Monday but yeah I should be able to get some done then. Please review, and if you want to chat to me on tumblr, my url is _kirwanraemus._**

**P.S. You can probably tell but I don't have a beta for this, so if anyone's interested in holding that title, please contact me!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry this is so much later than I said it would be and my only very lame excuse is that my holidays were a lot busier than I thought they would be. Also I was ill again on Monday.**

**Anyway, this chapter is - in my character-driven opinion - quite important. So lie/sit/hang upside-down back, and enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Kurt woke a few hours later, shifting uncomfortably against whatever was restraining his legs. He opened his eyes and looked down – a rope was holding his thighs against the branch to stop him falling off – and immediately wished he hadn't. The wolves below hadn't moved; they were still snarling up at him with ferocious teeth bared.

'Ah, you're awake!' Blaine, who had been crouching down the other end of the branch, stood up and started walking back towards him.

'Blaine!' cried Kurt, reaching out to steady him as he lowered himself down opposite Kurt. 'Jeez, don't do that, it freaks me out, you could fall off.'

'It's fine. I'm a very proficient tree climber.'

'That doesn't mean that your feet would have stayed glued to the branch if a sudden wind had picked up!'

Blaine laughed softly, shaking his head. 'It's nice to know you're so concerned.'

'Of course I'm concerned.'

'I'm touched.'

Kurt grinned, poking Blaine's knee. 'Now untie me, you idiot.'

Blaine watched him, considering his suggestion, then got up and started walking back along the branch. 'No,' he said, smirking at Kurt, 'no, I think I prefer you tied up.'

Kurt was about to make a snarky retort, but stopped himself. Were they _flirting_? He didn't even know if Blaine was gay, he couldn't just go flirting and letting himself fall for some straight guy, he couldn't do that to himself again –

'Kurt?'

'Oh, er, sorry.' Kurt shook his head, clearing his thoughts, then deadpanned, 'Oh, Blaine, I beseech you, untie me.' He tugged loosely at the knot in the rope.

Blaine grinned but obliged this time, deftly undoing the knot beside Kurt's thigh. He coiled the rope up as Kurt drew his knees up to his chest the stretched them. 'How long do you think it'll be before the wolves leave?' he asked.

Blaine glanced down, sighing. 'Anything between a few hours and a few days. But they're growing a bit restless. It'll probably only be a few hours.' Kurt nodded, relieved that they wouldn't have to stay up in the tree for "several days".

He felt Blaine gently pulling at the shoulder strap on his knapsack. 'Can we have food now?' he asked, tugging it off Kurt's shoulder. Kurt shifted so that he could pull it out from behind his back, and they found the food they had packed.

They ate the provisions leisurely, legs swinging on either side of the branch, occasionally kicking each other playfully. The wolves seemed to perk up a bit at the smell of food, yapping at the foot of the tree.

Kurt sighed and leaned back against the trunk, looking up at the sky through the leaves. Despite his initial disgust at the forest – and, of course, the band of snarling, ferocious wolves below him, in the same place where his mother had _died_ – he found himself to be quite enjoying the task. He thought most of it was due to the fact that he was travelling with Blaine, and really, whose trip _wouldn't_ be brightened by someone as friendly, and open, and nice, and clever, and adorable, and _gorgeous_ as Blaine? He couldn't really help it, Blaine was amazing, and Kurt knew he had found a good friend in him, despite the fact that he would be heading back to Callahan soon, back to magic class, and too much alchemy and tactics homework, and Rachel's craziness, and Karofsky –

'Penny for your thoughts?' asked Blaine.

Kurt sighed again, shaking his head. 'I – I just – don't really want this to end yet. I mean – I want the wolves to leave, obviously, and I want to get out of this horrible clearing, but I don't particularly want to… go home, yet.'

Blaine nodded, and was silent for a few moments, fiddling with his cuffs. Then he asked, 'Why not?'

Kurt looked down at him, then away, trying to word it so it didn't sound too forward or pathetic. 'I'm just… enjoying this. Enjoying being away from all the crazy, and not having to compete with Rachel, and not having to stay up late every night working, and, um, I really enjoyed, um, meeting you…' He blushed at Blaine's smile. '…And not having Karofsky around, obviously… but that's not – it doesn't matter – I'm just whining, honestly –'

'Kurt,' Blaine said gently.

'I'm sorry, I'm rambling, I know, I should stop…'

'I really don't mind. Who – who's Karofsky?'

Kurt tensed, opening and closing his mouth several times as he tried to answer him.

'I'm sorry,' apologised Blaine immediately. 'You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to – I was being nosy, I'm sorry –'

'Blaine, shut up. It's okay. I – I think I do want to talk about it.'

'Um… okay.'

Kurt met Blaine's eyes, the concern in them warming his heart. He took a deep breath, preparing for them soon to be clouded by disgust and shock, and started, 'I'm gay.'

Blaine nodded, completely unfazed as if he was expecting it, and Kurt felt a wave of relief sweep over him. 'Go on,' said Blaine.

'I – yes, I'm gay, and I'm sure of myself and I'm proud of who I am, but… most people in Kerajan just – they don't like me. People like me. They think we're… unnatural. Disgusting. Perverted. They hate us for the way we're born. And it's just – it's hard.' Blaine nodded again, and took Kurt's hand. 'As I said,' Kurt continued, 'I'm out and proud, but at school, it can be very difficult. I mean – my friends, my magic class, they're completely accepting of who I am, and I'm thankful for it, but it's only a very small part of the school, and an even smaller part of society, and even though we stick up for each other, it doesn't mean that it doesn't… hurt. Not physically, but, just, not being accepted by the majority of the people you see every day? It's really tough.'

'I understand,' Blaine said quietly. Kurt raised an eyebrow at him, but he shook his head, prompting Kurt to continue.

'Yeah, so… There are some people at school who are… worse than the others. Most just ignore me or throw me scathing looks and the occasional name, but there's this… this group of warriors who just _hate_ me. And I haven't done anything to offend any of them, but just because I'm gay, they have to shove me and spill food on me and break my stuff, and – I –' His voice broke, and he paused, wiping his eyes. 'Sorry.'

'Hey, no, don't be. You have every right to feel the way you do, with what they've been doing to you.' He squeezed Kurt's hand.

'Anyway, these warriors, they're led by this guy. Karofsky. He – he's the worst. It's like… when he sees me, I can just _see_ him getting angry, and then he usually stops whatever he's doing to come and – and – taunt me, or shove me, or whatever. But the worst thing is that… his father is principal of my school. So I can do literally _nothing_ against him, unless I want to be suspended or expelled.'

He stopped, breathing deeply again, and squeezed Blaine's hand back. 'I'm sorry you have to listen to me whine,' he said.

'No, no, no, Kurt. I _want_ to listen to you. And it's definitely not whining, this is serious, you need to let people know that this is going on, they can help you –'

'But that's just it, don't you see? Even if I get other people involved – and I have tried, my magic class do try to stick up for me – they just get shot down, because Karofsky's dad is one of the most powerful people in our town, and I just – I can't – _do anything_!' He let out a frustrated huff. 'And I want to, I really want to, Blaine, but I'm just too much of a coward to risk my education, and I _love_ magic too much, I could never give it up, and I just want Karofsky and his dad to _leave me alone_, and just understand that I was born this way – why would I choose to be bullied _every single day_? – and I haven't done anything to them, every time Karofsky does anything to me, I just take it, because I can't do anything to stop him, and I just wish I was more _brave_ –'

Blaine pulled him into a hug – wobbling them dangerously on the branch before they straightened themselves – and Kurt's voice was muffled by the crook of Blaine's neck, and Blaine wrapping his hands around his waist as Kurt circled his shoulders and let out a sob.

'Hey, shh, there…' Blaine swept his hands up and down his back. 'It's okay, Kurt, you can cry if you want, there, there…'

They hugged until Kurt's sobs had subsided and he pulled back from Blaine's embrace. 'Sorry,' he sniffed, wiping his eyes.

'Kurt, I've already told you not to be sorry, please don't apologise. I'm here for you, okay? It's okay.'

Kurt nodded, wiping his eyes again as they kept refilling with tears.

'And for the record, you _are_ brave, Kurt. I know – I know I haven't known you for very long, but what I've seen – Kurt, you're, wow. You _definitely_ are brave, okay? You're doing this task on your own, you trusted a complete stranger to travel with you, and you didn't run away because of the past when we got to this clearing, and you got us away from the wolves –'

'That was you.'

'No, listen. Everything you just told me, all of it, just made me sure of _how brave_ you are, okay? So please don't call yourself a coward, because you're really not.'

Kurt felt more tears well in his eyes, and tried not to let them drip out. He wiped his hand over his eyes again.

'Thanks,' he said very quietly, his voice still a little hoarse from sobbing. He looked up into Blaine's huge brown eyes, and saw unshed tears in them, too. 'Oh, great, now I've made you cry too, I should just throw myself to the wol – Blaine! Look!'

'What?'

'The wolves are gone!'

They looked down at the foot of the tree, and sure enough, the wolves were nowhere in sight. They must have left during Kurt's emotional outburst.

They swung themselves down the tree, feet finally hitting the solid roots with a cry of relief. Kurt kneeled and pretended to kiss the ground while Blaine watched him, an amused smile on his face.

'Got the necklace?' he asked. Kurt nodded, holding it up to show Blaine. 'Good, then let's go.'

They were still wary as they made their way back to the horses, Blaine keeping his bow at the ready, in case the wolves returned. When they finally made it to the top of the slope with no sign of the beasts, they let down their guards a little and sauntered back to the horses.

Kurt greeted Pippin enthusiastically as Blaine petted Merry. They mounted and swiftly left the area – Kurt didn't want to stay in the place where he had been attacked by wolves _twice_ (with a ten-year interval) any longer.

They rode back through the Forest as the sun disappeared behind the trees and a dusky gloom filled the wood. Kurt steered Pippin alongside Merry and gently bumped Blaine's leg with his ankle.

'Thank you for earlier,' he said.

'Of course, Kurt, and you need to understand that I'll always be here for you to talk to, okay?'

Kurt nodded. His face dropped as he decided to bring up the issue that had been clogging his mind since – well, since he had met Blaine, really.

'But what about… when I leave? I have to go back to the Academy, and it's a day's ride from there to the edge of the Forest, let alone wherever _you_ might live, and I really want to be able to see you again, but I don't see how we _can_ easily –'

Blaine stopped him with a hand on his knee. 'Shh,' he said gently. 'Don't worry. We'll work something out. I want to be able to see you again too.'

Kurt smiled tightly and squeezed Blaine's hand. 'I really hope we can,' he said softly, watching as the darkening gloom spread between the trees in front of them. 'I really do.'

* * *

**Oh, I do like me some h/c (well that was barely h/c but still)!**

**Not sure when I'll next update, probably sometime next week, in the mean time, please leave some reviews! Oh, how I love them so...**


	7. Chapter 7

**This turned out a bit later than I expected, so it's a wee bit longer than previously. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

The wind whipped across the barren land, making the long grass at the banks of the river thrash violently from side to side.

'Are you sure you don't want to come?' asked Kurt, nervously fingering the pommel of Pippin's saddle.

Blaine sighed dejectedly, looking down and away from him. 'I do,' he said quietly. 'I really do want to come. But I just… I can't.'

'Why not? What's stopping you?'

The tension between them – the knowledge that this was ending, that the friendship that had so easily grown up between them might crumble and that they might never see each other again – had grown as they neared the edge of the Forest. Kurt had first brought up the question of Blaine coming to visit him two nights ago, but Blaine had been reluctant, not giving his reasons. Kurt didn't understand, he wanted to know why his friend, who seemed so free to roam the Forest at his leisure, didn't want to visit him in _his_ home. And now they were here, by the bridge that led over the river, at the final decision point. The river marked the border between Kerajan and the wild realms of the Forest. And somehow, it also seemed to mark their ending point, too.

Blaine looked up at Kurt, a dark shadow hanging over his usually bright features. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and shook his head. 'I can't,' he repeated.

Kurt could hear the sorrow in his voice, the regret. He was telling the truth. But that didn't explain why he wasn't telling Kurt what was holding him back, what was preventing him leaving the woods and visiting Callahan.

'You don't even have to stay long, just a couple of days,' Kurt said pleadingly. 'I could show you the village, and introduce you to my friends, and show you round the school.'

Blaine glanced back at the woods, eyelids dropping as he sighed again. He stayed silent for a few moments, then let out a gruff laugh. 'And to think, I was the one begging to come with you just a week and a half ago.'

Kurt smiled at the memory, then remembered that he might never see Blaine again, and the smile fell. 'How… how am I going to see you again, though?' he asked quietly.

Blaine reached across and took his hand. 'I told you, Kurt. We'll work something out. But for now you need to get that necklace back to your teacher and I need to get back home. I want to come with you, Kurt, I really do. It's just… My da – I can't. I can't explain why, not without… I just can't. But I promise you, we _will_ see each other again, okay?'

Kurt nodded slightly, feeling tears well up in his eyes. He didn't want to let go of Blaine. Not when they had become such good friends in less than two weeks, not when he hoped they could have the potential to be so much more. He squeezed Blaine's hand, wiping his eyes, and smiled a watery smile. Blaine smiled too, and leaned forward and hugged him.

It was a strange angle, both of them on horseback, but it still meant something. Kurt buried his face in Blaine's neck, breathing his scent of woodfire and grass and that horsey smell Kurt loved and something… something that was just _Blaine_. After a few moments, they pulled away, Kurt feeling a blush dust his cheeks, and simply looked at each other. Then Blaine smiled again, grinning this time, and squeezed Kurt's hands in his.

'I'll see you again,' he said. He pulled Kurt into another hug and whispered beside his ear, 'I promise.'

Then they pulled apart and Blaine began to turn Merry back towards the treeline. 'Travel safely,' he said. 'And remember, Kurt, when it comes to those bullies? Prejudice is just ignorance. Stand up to them, let them know how brave you are.'

Kurt nodded, wiping a hand through the tears that were now falling freely down his face. 'Bye, Blaine,' he choked.

Blaine shook his head, squeezed Kurt's hand one last time. 'Don't ever say goodbye,' he said softly.

And then he was gone, cantering back towards the treeline, Merry's hooves flying over the grass. As he reached the trees, he turned back and waved at Kurt. He waved back, and watched Blaine's dark form disappear into the woods.

And then he was alone again.

Kurt smiled as he turned into the school courtyard, Pippin snorting happily as he smelt his home. He trotted over to the mounting block and swung himself down off his horse's back, grinning at Rory as he approached him.

'Kurt! Good to see you!' he pulled him into a rough hug. 'How was the trip? You succeed?'

Kurt nodded, smiling, and trying to ignore the pang in his chest as he thought of leaving Blaine behind. 'Yeah, it was great. A bit grim and dirty, being in a forest and all, but great.'

'Good to hear. Can I take Pippin for you?'

'Oh, thanks. Who else is back?'

'Er… Rachel got back from the mountains this morning. Artie and Finn got back from Varrod a couple of days ago, and Quinn sent a message ahead of her from the plains saying she would be back tomorrow. We don't know about the others.'

'Oh, ok, great – or not, I don't – sorry, do you know where Rachel is?'

'I think she went up to her room.'

Kurt thanked him, heaving his packs off Pippin to take them up to his room. He stopped at Mr Schue's office on his way up, poking his head round the door to see his teacher busy sorting different coloured powders into bowls.

'I'm back,' he said brightly.

Mr Schue spun round, grinning. 'You succeed?' he asked, wiping his hands on a towel.

'Yep,' said Kurt, pulling out the necklace from his topmost pack. 'Had to fight off a couple of wolves for this, but I made it home safe and sound.'

'Great,' said Mr Schue. 'Why don't you go put your bags up in your room, then come back down here and tell me how it went, okay?'

'Sure.' Kurt bobbed his head a couple of times then hurried out of the room.

He reached his corridor and heard loud singing coming from the room beside his. He sighed, dropping his bags beside his door, then tapped on Rachel's.

'Rachel?' he called over the loud lyrics of _I am the greatest star, I am by far but no one knows it!_ She was constantly singing, songs of her own creation, melodies she picked up from the school's band or the town fiddler. Unfortunately, she had a tendency to come up with either very self-centered or very bad lyrics – this was no exception.

The door was flung open as Rachel squealed and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He laughed, rubbing her back awkwardly, and gently managed to pry her off him.

'Okay, okay,' he said as Rachel continued to try and squeeze him. 'Calm down.'

Rachel released him and led him back into her and Mercedes' room, pulling him down onto the couch beside her. Kurt landed with a 'hmpf!' and straightened his tunic.

'Sooo…' Rachel began, 'how did it go? You have to tell me everything!' She bounced up and down excitedly, watching his with gleaming eyes.

Kurt smiled at her – despite the fact that Rachel was insufferable and that he had greatly enjoyed being away from her for a bit, she _was _his best friend and he _had_ missed her.

He opened his mouth, about to start on a long and very flattering description of Blaine and how he helped him, but refrained. Something was telling him that he should keep Blaine a secret from the others, for now at least. Maybe he could tell Mercedes when she returned (at least he knew he could trust her with secrets; the same could definitely _not_ be said for Rachel).

'It was good,' he answered simply. 'Not much happened. I had a brief run-in with some wolves, but I got away in time. How was your trip?'

'Wolves?! Oh my gosh, Kurt! Are you okay?'

'Yes, Rachel, I'm fine. I managed to climb a tree to get out of their way. Tell me about your trip, I want to hear.'

For once, Rachel ignored the invitation to start talking about her life and continued staring at him in shock. 'But _wolves_, Kurt! Wolves!' she exclaimed, grasping his face and looking into his eyes with a concerned scrutiny. 'You're sure you're okay?'

Kurt laughed, patting her hands. '_Yes_, I'm sure. I probably wouldn't be here if I wasn't. And seeing as you don't want to tell me about what happened to you, I'm going to go put my stuff away then go back down and talk to Mr Schue. I'll see you at dinner, okay?'

Rachel nodded, still looking worried and slightly stunned as he left the room.

He unlocked his door and dragged his bags inside before sinking face-first onto the bed. He let out a groan of content at the soft mattress and kicked his boots off, shuffling on further and burying his face in the pillows.

He lay there for a few minutes, feeling drowsy, then pulled himself up before he actually fell asleep. He put his things away, glad to be finally back in his familiar bedroom, had a quick shower and grabbed his necklace before setting off to find Mr Schue.

He knocked gently on his magic teacher's door, stepping in when his name was called. Mrs Schuester-Pillsbury was dusting a row of books and Mr Schue was at his desk, frowning as he graded homework.

'Have a seat,' he said, pushing the thick wad of parchments away and leaning across the desk towards Kurt. 'How are you?'

'Um… okay?'

Mr Schue nodded. 'Good. Okay. So you've shown me your necklace, why don't you tell me some more about how your trip to collect it went?'

Kurt relayed the story to him, again, omitting Blaine. He still didn't know why he was doing it, exactly – Blaine was just a harmless scout, for goodness' sake, and a very respectable one at that – but whenever he considered it, it was as if there was something physically stopping him talk about it. So he just continued with his story, which sounded very dull without Kurt's main source of interest included.

When he was done, Mr Schue watched him over his clasped hands before nodding and raffling through the sheets on his desk until he found what he was looking for. 'Well,' he said, 'you're almost an apprentice.' He tapped the parchment on the desk, Kurt recognising it as his official apprenticeship certificate. 'One last thing though. I want you to unColour that necklace for me.'

Kurt smiled – this was, again, simple Telepathic magic. He concentrated on the necklace as the blue slowly began to fade until a simple, silver necklace was left in his hand. He examined it, glad to be finally able to see the details that the blinding light had hidden. The pendant was oval, embossed with an elegant _K. H._ and set with a sparkling sapphire. A little clasp held two of the sides together; Kurt pressed it and the locket fell open in his palm. There was a small frame to hold a picture on one side, the other engraved with tiny cursive writing: _Though the miles may keep us apart, you will forever be in my heart_. Kurt smiled at the slightly cheesy line.

'It was your mother's,' said Mr Schue. 'And her mother's before her. I had it embossed with your initials when your father gave it to me to use. He was going to keep it until your birthday, but this opportunity arose, so we decided to use it. It even inspred your classmates' necklaces.'

Kurt's lips twitched again, this time a little more sadly, and clasped the locket shut. His grandmother's. His mother's. And now his. It felt warm in his fingers, as if it belonged to him. He supposed it did.

'Thank you,' he said.

Mr Schue patted him on the shoulder, handing over the certificate. 'Well, you did well, Kurt. Welcome to your apprenticeship!'

Kurt grinned, trying to ignore the idea of how proud his mother would have been, or the fact that Blaine wasn't there to celebrate with him.

* * *

Life at Callahan Academy resumed. Kurt and all of his friends were now apprentices, learning restoration magic and how to harness the energy of the earth. He was still competing with Rachel, still the best in the class at Telepathic, still the only one who could name all the different cleansing spells in under a minute. His life outside of magic class was fairly unchanged – hanging out with Mercedes and Tina and discussing the fashion plates from Varrod which the traders brought every month, discussing the fine details of Kinetic magic with Rachel, avoiding Karofsky. His other lessons – philosophy, English, tactics, rhetoric, Latin, alchemy and history – were still not as interesting as his magic class. He still helped tutor Brittany with her tactics and rhetoric and still visited Pippin every evening.

But it was as if something was missing, something was off. Ever since he had returned, he had a dull feeling of agitation, of... waiting for something. It gnawed at him when he was alone in his room, studying or singing or embroidering the hem of his tunic. He would stop whatever he was doing, and just stare into the distance. Visions of dark curls and bright eyes would swim in his mind, clouding his other thoughts until he shook his head and resumed his task.

He put it down to the stress of apprenticeship, but deeper down he knew it was because of Blaine. Not only because he missed him – whenever he thought of him, his smile, his expressive eyes, his trusting face that just _forced_ Kurt to tell him his deepest, darkest secrets, he would feel a sharp pang in his chest – but it was like he was _different_. Blaine had changed him, somehow, and he was still coming to terms with it.

A sharp knock on his bedroom door drew him from his daydreams of dappled light painting tanned skin and fresh laughter echoing through the trees and he hurried over to answer it. Santana was leaning against the wall, checking her fingernails.

'Yeah?' asked Kurt.

She glanced up at him, apparently uninterested, then went back to checking her nails. 'Some dude down by the horse yard says he wants to see you. Wouldn't tell Rory his name, but he said it was important. Although why he came in _that _way and not through the front gate, I have _no_ idea.'

Kurt felt his curiosity mounting, wondering who it could be. He didn't know many people – _Oh no_, he thought, _what if it's about Dad?_

He ran down the corridor, bedroom door swinging shut behind him. His father had had a heart attack about a year ago, and his health hadn't been quite perfect since. Whenever Kurt was around him he tried to stop him eating the fatty pork and dripping that he loved, but living at school, he knew his dad ran a much higher risk of relapsing – thank goodness Carole was there to keep an eye on him.

He skidded round the corner into the horse yard, eyes searching frantically. The place was deserted, and Kurt suddenly got a horrible twang of _what if this is a trick by Karofsky?_ – but then no, Santana would never do that to him, would she? – until he spotted Rory talking to a figure wearing a dark cloak, standing in the shade of the carriage barn.

Kurt approached nervously, steeling himself to hear the worst. Rory spotted him.

'Oh hey, Kurt! Um…'

The person in the cloak turned around, hood raised. Kurt felt a jolt of deja-vu. The stranger lowered the hood.

Kurt felt like his heart was going to burst free from his chest.

_Blaine_.

* * *

**A/N: I don't think I can survive chapters without Blaine in them anymore. **

**The lyrics Rachel briefly sings are from I Am The Greatest Star (from Funny Girl). As Broadway doesn't really exist in this world - magic being the equivalent - and the fact that this is set in Medieval-ish times when music wasn't the same as it is today, any songs are going to be written by the characters (or written by bards, then stolen by the characters!).**

**Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up around the beginning of next week, but no promises!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay, so a _lot_ of Blaine's backstory in this one. Prepare yourselves!**

**Warnings for mentions of very bad treatment, homophobia, and minor character deaths. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

_Blaine._

Blaine was here, Blaine was standing right in front of him, Blaine was in the middle of the horse yard at his school and he was _here_.

Kurt's brain finally caught up and his shocked expression transformed into one of pure joy as he threw himself at Blaine. He flung his arms around his shoulders, burying his face into the crook of his neck and inhaling that scent of trees and horse and something else that he had missed so much. He felt Blaine's arms circle around his back, hugging him just as tightly, and tried to restrain himself from pulling back and kissing him.

'Er… I'll just…' Rory mumbled, shuffling away, and they broke apart. Blaine took Kurt's hand, smiling at him, as Kurt turned to Rory.

'Sorry,' he said. 'Um, Rory, this is Blaine. Blaine, Rory.'

Blaine nodded and offered his hand. Rory shook it likely, then turned to Merry, who was sniffing the air curiously. 'Do you – erm – are you – do you want him stabling for the night?'

Blaine glanced at Kurt then shook his head. 'No, it's okay, I'm staying in the village. But thanks.' He turned back to Kurt as Rory hurried off, obviously trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

'Hi,' he said.

Kurt grinned and hugged Blaine again briefly. 'Hi,' he breathed. 'Why – how – what are you doing here?'

Ouch, that sounded accusatory. He fumbled to correct himself but Blaine just nodded his head and looked around at the school.

'Can we go somewhere less… conspicuous? I'll tell you everything.'

'Of course.' Kurt nodded, gesturing at Blaine to follow him. He led him up through the fairly empty corridors to his room, stopped at the door and turned to look at him again as he unlocked it, still not quite over the excitement of seeing him again. He opened the door and stepped in, Blaine following.

He watched as Blaine swept his gaze over the gilded fireplace, the stained glass windows and his perfectly colour-coordinated armchairs, curtains and broad four-poster bed.

'Your room is amazing,' he breathed. Kurt felt his chest warm up at the indirect compliment. 'It's so… tasteful and warm and homely.'

'Thank you,' replied Kurt, ducking his head as he motioned Blaine over to the armchairs. 'The furniture is the school's, but I decorated it myself.' He knelt down on the little mat placed in front of the fire to keep his knees clean and started prodding at the ashes. 'Tina – she's one of my friends from magic class – had to help me do the ceiling, but the rest of it was mostly me.'

Blaine glanced up and Kurt saw his eyes widen at the elaborate geometric pattern that sprawled across the ceiling, letting out a small 'wow' of astonishment.

'How are you?' asked Kurt.

Blaine dropped his gaze back to him. 'I'm… alright.' There was something in his tone that led Kurt to believe that he was anything but, but he didn't want to put Blaine in an uncomfortable situation, so he asked him something that he hoped could lead up to explaining it.

'You said you were going to tell me why you were here…?' he ventured as he dropped into his chair. 'I mean, it's fine, of course, if you don't want to, it's nice just seeing you again, I was just wondering –'

'Easy, Kurt, I'll tell you.'

Kurt blushed, realising he had been rambling, and nodded sheepishly.

'You sure you want to hear everything?' asked Blaine. 'That's fine, it's just… it's quite a long story.'

'I'm sure.'

'Okay.' Blaine sighed, running his hands down his leather-clad thighs, and began.

'So… I think this all starts in one place – or with one person. My father. He – he's a very powerful man. He was born a powerful man, he was raised a powerful man, and so he became a powerful man. He doesn't love my mother, and I don't think he ever has. It was a marriage of convenience. But anyway, that… doesn't really matter. At least not in this story.

'My brother, Cooper, is ten years older than me. He's tall, he's handsome, he's clever, he's charismatic – basically, my father's idea of the perfect son. He spoilt him as he grew up, until he also became a… powerful man. He's an amazing warrior, he has a commanding presence, and he has all the ladies swooning at his feet. He's everything my father could ever want his son to be.

'I, however, am… not.' He held up a hand as Kurt began to protest. 'Hear me out. My parents weren't supposed to have another child, from what I'm told – they weren't even sleeping together anymore. I am the… result of a drunken night of folly.' He sighed, and Kurt felt a pang in his chest as he discreetly wiped his eyes. 'So I was treated that way. My parents didn't _love_ me. Why would they, when they had Cooper to adore and dote over? I grew up in my brother's shadow, celebrating _his_ achievements, _his_ victories, _his_ life. My father either hated me or ignored me. My mother tried to connect with me, but she was usually too drunk to walk, let alone have a decent conversation.

'But I don't really think I regret – no, in fact, I'm sure I don't. And I _do_ love Cooper, because he was the only one who actually seemed to care about me, but I would never want to deserve my father's love. Love based on status, strength and achievements, rather than who I actually was. So, I started – I became a bit of a… rebel. I dropped out of warrior training when I was fourteen. I became a scout. Although I never tried it, I became interested in magic. I was friends with the kitchen girl and the groom. I would sneak out at night to hunt deer rather than girls. I started looking after my own horse. I went out to visit my friends in the village every night.

'I loved it, my father hated it. Simple.

'So when I was sixteen, he… kicked me out. Well – he didn't – but he sent me away. To a special… school for kids like me. Rebels, those who didn't conform to the traditions laid down by their ancestors. You have to remember that I'm not from Kerajan. Where I come from, there's no freedom to choose what you want to do with your life, you just follow the path your parents have tread before you. Upper-class boys become warriors or knights, middle-class boys become squires and pages, and only the lowest of the low become scouts. Girls are trained only for marriage. Magic is rarely spoken of – almost the entire subject is taboo. And by becoming a scout and mixing with those of lower classes and doing my own work, I had violated all the conventions of society.

'Anyway, this school. It was horrible. You – you don't want to know the details. But let's just say… it wasn't really a school. It was a reformation prison.

'When I was there, I made friends with a group of guys – oh, it was a boys-only school – who were locked up there for various reasons. Some of them – Wes, David, James – were scouts, like me. A few, like Trent and Thad, had dabbled in magic. And then there was Nick and Jeff. The had done nothing wrong, they hadn't even abandoned warrior training like the rest of us, but they were both born condemned. Their crime? They loved each other.

'They had it worse than the rest of us. Daily beatings. Starvation. Being forced to sleep in a different, much colder, part of the school from us – I think the teachers might've thought they were going to do something to us, or that it was contagious, but they were the sweetest guys you've ever met, and they wouldn't harm a fly…'

He dropped off as he noticed the tears in Kurt's eyes. 'I'm sorry,' he hastened to apologise, 'I should stop, this is a horrible story to be telling you –'

'No, please go on,' Kurt said quietly, his voice quivering. There was a dull ache in his chest as he imagined everything Blaine and those boys had suffered through – and might still be suffering through.

'Sorry. Okay,' Blaine continued. 'Well, Nick and Jeff may have been treated the worst at the school, but it did nothing to stop their personalities.' Blaine smiled fondly. 'Despite it all, the stayed just as crazy as when they first arrived. Always… running around everywhere, pulling practical jokes – they were probably punished at least as much for their behaviour as for their sexual orientations. Anyway, one day they were being their usual selves, when they found an old, disused mine in the school grounds. They investigated it, of course. A couple of the tunnels had fallen in, but it was mostly intact. One – one of the tunnels led out. Behind the school walls. Into the woods.

'They told the rest of us and… we did it. At night, the night of my 17th birthday. We managed to escape.

'Only about twelve of us made it, though. Me, Wes, David, Trent, Thad, Nick, Jeff, Logan, Tyler, James, Adam and Ethan. The others all copped out. They were too afraid of being caught, or finally getting out into the woods only to be devoured by wolves. I don't blame them – they did what they felt was safest in the circumstances. And it was dangerous. When we got out, we realised we had no idea what we were going to do. We headed west – to get as far away from the place as possible – but it soon became clear that we couldn't just keep on travelling. We had a couple of run-ins with wolves and one with a rabid boar, so after travelling for a couple of weeks three of us were injured and the others were exhausted.

'Luckily, a week later, we found the perfect place to stop – it was basically a hidden clearing that you could only get into if you already knew how, know what I mean? Nick found it. It was big and had river running through it, so we decided to set up somewhere to live there. There was no going back east, and we needed to catch up before going any further west. So we built a couple of rough huts, set up a hunting and cooking rota, stole a few horses from the village directly to the north, and became a tiny community.' He smiled, staring off behind Kurt as he remembered. 'There was this one little bird – I have no idea where he came from, but he was very exotic – who moved in with us. We named him Pavarotti.'

'Cute,' commented Kurt.

'Uh huh, he was. Anyway, the system was working out so well that we decided to stay there, at least for a few more months. And then it was my turn to hunt, and I spotted deer herd, and followed them for a few days – sometimes David could be gone for a month, hunting, a week was nothing – until I came to the edge of the Forest. I was just coming back from refilling my water skin at the river when a certain horse and rider caught my eye.'

His eyes glinted with amusement as he winked at Kurt, then he became serious again.

'After you left, it was… weird. I don't really mind being alone whilst hunting – heck, that was one of the attractions of becoming a scout – but I just… I don't know, I felt really lonely afterwards. It's not easy losing someone who was quickly becoming your best friend, you know?'

Kurt's eyebrows shot up his forehead as he nodded. He certainly did know.

'But… the fact that I had to get back to the others wasn't the reason I was so reluctant to go with you. I'm sure they wouldn't have minded if I had been away a bit longer. It was because… before I left, we heard… soldiers, in the woods. My father had sent them. The word of the break-out had finally got back to his ears, and he had sent them to find us. To find me.

'They didn't see our home, however, so I went on my hunting trip anyway and I'm very glad I did. But when I got back, tensions were running high. More soldiers had passed by whilst I had been away, closer this time. Everyone was nervous. We knew what would happen if they found us – the school wouldn't take us back, and so it was either back to humiliating our families or…'

Kurt filled in the gap. _Death_.

'It was scary. We had to set up a watch every night, and practice our fighting during the day – most of us were pretty rusty, only Tyler, Nick, Jeff and Ethan still knew how to defend efficiently. We were low on food, because we couldn't hunt properly for fear of getting caught, and we couldn't make fires for fear of someone seeing the smoke. So we lived on fruit and cold dried meat for a week.

'Which is not the best when you're attacked by a group of seventy armed men.'

Kurt gasped, hand flying over his mouth in shock. His stomach swooped in fear at the look on Blaine's face, and he got up and went to sit on the arm of his chair, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. Blaine continued, now with tears evident in his eyes.

'They – they came in the morning. When we were still all waking up. They must have found us a few days before, because it was all perfectly well-planned. We barely had time to grab our weapons. It – it was over pretty quickly.'

He took a deep breath, shoulders shaking. 'Three of us didn't make it.'

'Oh my gosh,' whispered Kurt as he slid to his knees, bile rising in his mouth. He kept his arms wrapped around Blaine, comforting him as tears now slid openly down his face. Thank goodness Rachel wasn't singing next door, or he wouldn't have heard the next three words that slipped out of Blaine's mouth in a broken whisper.

'James, Adam and Thad.'

He shoulders shuddered again as he cried, face blotchy and red. Kurt felt tears moistening his own face, but he wiped them away as he focused on Blaine instead.

'We – we – the rest –' He sniffed loudly. 'Most of the rest were captured. Only Ethan, Jeff and I got away because we had horses.'

Kurt remained silent as he hugged Blaine, gently stroking up and down his back.

'They didn't need much convincing to come here. We're staying at the inn in the village, but we'll have to find something more permanent soon.'

Kurt nodded as Blaine rubbed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing. 'I'm sorry,' he said.

'No, Blaine, you have no right to be sorry. You just told me that whole story, I should hope you could at least realise that. You can talk to me whenever you want, okay?'

Blaine hesitated, then nodded.

'Come on,' said Kurt, pulling him to his feet, 'let's get you cleaned up. And then we can sort out where you're staying okay? I don't have any more lessons today, soo we have plenty of time.'

'Um, Kurt?' asked Blaine as Kurt sat him down in front of the sink. 'Have you told anyone about me?'

'No, not yet. Do you – should I?'

'No, I… I'd prefer if you could… keep this a secret. My past, I mean. And maybe… the circumstances of our meeting? I don't want any unnecessary questions.'

'Of course.'

Blaine smiled and wiped his face, then stopped and looked at Kurt again. 'But that doesn't mean I'd be adverse to meeting your friends.'

Kurt grinned more broadly this time at the prospect of Blaine meeting Rachel and Mercedes and Tina. 'Don't worry,' he said, taking the cloth from Blaine and wetting it again, 'we'll find a nice, easy explanation to your sudden appearance. Something that will mean we can meet and talk whenever, okay? Because you need to know that I will always be here to listen to you.'

Blaine nodded gratefully. 'Okay.'

* * *

**Phew, I wrote that in an afternoon, _lots_ of fun twisting Blaine's past into a dark realm of gloom! **

**Anyway, I just want to say thank you to everyone who is reading and following this, it really encourages me. Update probably next week!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey! I'm sorry this update is so late, I had a massive deadline this week that needed to get done...**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Half an hour later, Kurt and Blaine were sitting opposite the fire, cradling hot cups of tea that Kurt had proudly shown Blaine how to brew over the gentle flames and glowing ashes, when there was a loud rapping on the door.

Kurt froze, meeting Blaine's anxious look as another rap sounded through the heavy wood.

'Kurt, open up!' came a shrill voice. 'We both know I'm perfectly capable of breaking through this spell in seconds!'

Kurt panicked, jumping up and setting down his tea as he pulled Blaine to his feet. They hadn't decided how to introduce Blaine to Kurt's friends yet, or come up with an explanation for his appearance at Callahan.

'What do you want to do?' he whispered urgently. It was Blaine's decision, not his, whether he would be revealed to his friends. Blaine simply shook his head, mouthing "I don't know" as Kurt sighed and ushered him over into the bathroom. 'Maybe just stay in there for now, okay? Then we can decide what to tell them later.' Blaine nodded and pulled the door almost shut.

Kurt hurried to the entrance to his room and unlocked it to reveal a frantic and frustrated-looking Rachel, who pushed past him into the room, clutching a rolled-up piece of parchment to her chest. She dropped into the chair Blaine had just vacated and motioned Kurt over urgently.

He sighed and sat down opposite her. 'What?'

Rachel's eyes widened as she began to speak. 'I was helping Mr Watson sort out the official letters for Sir Karofsky – he often asks me to help him, and I'm very willing, of course, to lend my excellent organisational skills for the benefit of the school –'

'Just get to the point, Rachel.'

'Yes, yes, Kurt. Anyway, I was sorting through his messages from Varrod, and normally I don't read them properly, of course, but this one had a green seal on it and those are _really_ rare, and I couldn't resist just peeking, so when Mr Watson left to use the bathroom I glanced over it briefly. I read it. And then I – well, I copied it.'

'Rachel!' exclaimed Kurt, shocked. 'You can't steal Sir Karofsky's letters!'

'I didn't steal it, I _borrowed a copy_ of it. No harm done.'

Kurt eyed her warily, but eventually nodded. She was just being her usual, over-the-top dramatic, but completely harmless self. 'Okay. So why are you here? Is that – is that it?'

'You have to read it, Kurt,' she said, nervously fingering the edge of the parchment before handing it over to him. The faintest of tinglings in Kurt's fingers told him that it was a magical copy and would disappear as soon as Rachel willed it to. 'I had to share it with someone, I couldn't keep something like _that_ to myself, you know me.'

Kurt unfolded the parchment, now intrigued in what could put Rachel in such a state. His eyes briefly scanned the curling writing before he read out loud:

'_To the right noble Sir Paul Karofsky,_

'_This information is as of the moment top secret. Please do not share it with anyone but yourself and those you trust the most._

'_It has recently come to our knowledge that the Kingdom of Kerajan is under threat from external forces. After some investigation, we discovered that the neighbouring Kingdom of Roden has been mobilising their forces with the view of moving on Kerajan. We do not know the reasons behind this movement but we suspect that it is not diplomatically remediable. The king of Roden has not yet declared open war on Kerajan, but there is a high possibility that it may happen soon._

'_The reason we are sharing this extremely delicate information with you is that, if the worst comes to the worst, Callahan Academy and the surrounding village are closest to the border between Kerajan and Roden and therefore are most likely to be in the attack line. We are not asking anything of you yet, but please be prepared to act. We will send you clearer instructions when or if the threat becomes more lucid._

'_In the meantime, we ask you to continue to ensure the safety of your students as well as remaining wary of any newcomers to your school or village._

'_With condolences about your situation and thanks for your cooperation,_

'_Richard Williams_

'_Secretary to the Minister of Defence.'_

Kurt stared at the parchment, barely noticing the quick beat of his heart of the sewat coating his palms.

He swore quietly.

Rachel nodded. 'You understand why I had to show you, right? I couldn't just read that and then try to keep it a secret.'

Kurt didn't reply, still staring in shock at the words. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. How were you supposed to react when you've just accidentally found out that your country was on the brink of war?

'What – what are we going to do?' Rachel ventured quietly.

Kurt simply shook his head as he stood up, dropping the letter back on to Rachel's lap as he turned to pace the room. He didn't know. He was helpless. Heck, he was _terrified_.

'I – I think you should go,' he said eventually, turning to Rachel. 'I need to… think.'

Rachel nodded and rolled up the parchment. She walked over to the door silently, pausing with her hand on the knob. 'I'm sorry, Kurt,' she said quietly.

'It's not your fault. In any way.'

She smiled weakly and left the room. Kurt immediately spun round to Blaine, whose face was clouded with worry as he emerged from the bathroom.

'You heard it all?'

'Everything.'

Kurt sighed again and sank down onto his bed, running his hands through his hair as he tried to ignore the fluttery feeling in his stomach. The bed dipped as Blaine sat next to him, hands clenched and head bowed.

'Threat of war,' Kurt breathed, still unable to contain his shock – and now his fear.

Blaine took his hand and clenched it tightly. Kurt could see the rise and fall of his chest, feel the blood pumping fast where their wrists were pressed together. Blaine was just as scared as he was.

'Are you okay?' asked Kurt.

Blaine hesitated, then shook his head. 'You don't need to worry… it's just… it's been a really emotionally traumatic day. I'm exhausted and I have a headache because I barely slept last night.' Kurt saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, heard his breath hitching. 'I'm terrified. I'm terrified for my friends and I'm terrified for myself and for you and I'm terrified for this situation because the Kingdom I just fled to to be safe is now being threatened by the very Kingdom I ran from!'

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand, then realization of what Blaine had just said dawned on him and he turned to face him.

'You – you're from Roden?'

'I… yes.'

Kurt remained silent, feeling Blaine's palm become sticky under his fingers. Of course he was. Roden was to the north-east, on the far side of the Forest. Blaine had said they had travelled west when they had escaped the school. He couldn't have been from anywhere else.

'I'm sorry if you can't trust me anymore.' Blaine's voice was small.

Kurt glanced up quickly, heart clenching at the hesitantly apologetic look on Blaine's face.

'I still trust you,' he said softly. Blaine smiled faintly, leaning his head to the side as Kurt stroked his thumb over the back of his hand. 'I told you before and I'm gonna tell you again. I trust you.'

'But… that was before you knew me properly. I mean… my past. I – I've hurt people, Kurt. Injured them. And I've come pretty close to killing them as well. I understand if… if you… if we can't be friends anymore. I'm a pretty bad person.'

'Blaine, stop it!' Kurt said sharply. 'You are _not_ a bad person. You're amazing. But you need to let your past go and stop dwelling on everything that's happened to you. I know it was hard and that it's scarred you, trust me, I understand, but it does _nothing_ to make you a bad person. In fact, the fact that you went through all that and still emerged the astonishing person you are today just proves that you're one of the best types of people there can be.'

Blaine looked up at him, something like hope in his eyes. 'Um, thanks. I guess you're right. I just… I have confidence issues. I was always told I was bad by the people I wanted to love me and … it hurt. I put up barriers. I created a whole different personality of confidence and brazenness and stood up to them just because I thought deep down inside that I was bad. But I think… since meeting my friends, and even since meeting you, I might be starting to… accept myself again.'

Kurt grinned and squeezed his hand as Blaine smiled back. It reached his eyes this time.

'Um… a bit off-topic, maybe, but what brought this up? I understand that you're from Roden, and that's fine with me, but –'

'My father.'

'What?'

'I know at least one of the reasons they might attack. It's… um. Me.'

'Blaine, what do you –'

'I'm wanted back there. To control. To keep watch on. To keep locked in a tower room at night and followed around during the day.'

'But… why?'

A look of resignation fell over Blaine's features as his met Kurt's eyes. 'My father is the king of Roden.'

* * *

'I told them to stay up the room for now, just in case…'

'I understand.'

Kurt followed as Blaine led him down the dark corridor and stopped outside a low, wooden door. 'We couldn't afford a very big room. Ethan got the bed because he was injured.'

He knocked a couple of times, and there was a voice from inside that Kurt couldn't quite hear.

'It's me,' Blaine called back. 'And I, um, I've got someone with me. Don't worry, you can trust him.'

The lock scraped loudly before the door opened a crack and a pair of inquisitive hazel eyes curtained by pale blond bangs peeked round the wood.

'Hey,' said Blaine.

The boy nodded at him and glanced at Kurt suspiciously, eyebrows raising as Blaine pushed the door back.

'Let us in, Jeff,' he muttered. Jeff stepped away and Kurt followed Blaine into the low-ceilinged room.

Blaine was right, it wasn't very big. A single bed was pushed up against the far wall, occupied by a sleeping form covered in a large pile of blankets. Another mattress had been set up on the floor, and the ratty armchair that stood by the small sooty fire was obviously also being used to sleep in. There was a large pile of bags and knapsacks in the corner, Blaine's bow and a couple of swords propped against the wall beside it.

'Um, come in,' said Blaine. He turned to Jeff. 'Kurt, this is Jeff. Jeff, Kurt.'

Jeff smiled faintly, holding out a hand. 'Blaine's mentioned you,' he said. 'Quite a few times, actually.' The smiled widened as he looked across at Blaine, who ducked his head, muttering for him to shut up.

The person sleeping on the bed – Ethan, if Kurt remembered what Blaine had said correctly – rolled over, eyes scrunching as he woke up. He propped himself up on his arms and blinked confusedly round the room, eyes landing on Kurt as he muttered, 'Who's that?'

'Ethan, this is Kurt,' Blaine said. Ethan's eyes widened as he understood and he nodded, a faint glint of something in his eye as he stuck out his hand at him.

'Nice to meet you,' he said. Kurt shook his hand. 'We've heard _a lot_ about you.' He winked at him as Kurt turned round to Blaine, eyebrow risen. Blaine blushed and looked away awkwardly.

'So Blaine told me about what happened to you guys,' he said. 'I – er – I'm sorry.'

Ethan just shook his head as he sat up in bed. 'Yeah, I mean, it was a pretty crap thing to happen, man. But us three are all fine now, so that's good. It's good Blaine knew about your village and stuff.'

Kurt nodded, hands stuffed in his pockets as Ethan dragged himself out of bed, revealing a splint around one of his legs.

'Oh my gosh, are you okay?' asked Kurt.

'Huh? Oh, this little thing? Nah, that's nothing. I'm fine.' He glanced up at Jeff. 'Did you check about dinner?'

'I told him to stay up in the room,' answered Blaine. 'But we could have some now, I guess. Kurt, do you want some?'

'Oh, yeah, sure, thanks.'

'Okay.' Blaine rubbed his hands together. 'Shall we go down?' He glanced at Kurt. 'Will there be anyone down there to recognise us?'

Kurt shook his head.

They sat round a table in the far corner of the little inn, Kurt and Blaine opposite Jeff and Ethan, as they picked at their food.

'So what do you do exactly, Kurt?' Ethan asked. 'It's probably better to hear it from you than the garbled stories Blaine would tell.'

'I live at the school. Um, I'm mainly focused on magic.'

'Cool,' said Ethan as Jeff whistled through his teeth. 'They're okay with that here?'

'Yeah. I mean, it's not considered particularly cool, but it's not like… Blaine said how…'

'How we get thrown in a reform school for it? Yeah.' Ethan grinned. 'A lot of things seem more relaxed here.'

Kurt hesitated, pushing a lump of potato onto his fork, before asking, 'If I may… what were you in there for?'

Ethan grinned as Jeff's face darkened. 'Oh I was just always messing around. My dad didn't approve of the fact that I had piercings and tattoos and stuff. Or that his stock of ale would always decrease when I was left alone in the house.' He shook his head, sighing as if it were a fond memory, and took another swig of his rum. 'Jeff – did Blaine tell you?'

Kurt nodded, meeting Jeff's eyes with a sympathetic smile.

'I'm fine with who I am,' said Jeff quietly. 'I'm sorry I'm not being very talkative. I just… I really miss him.'

He saw Ethan pat his shoulder sympathetically.

'Um… I'm sorry they had to put you through all that, Jeff,' Kurt said quietly. 'I – er – I kind of know what it's like.' He paused. 'I'm gay too.'

Jeff's eyebrows shot up his forehead but he offered Kurt a warm smile.

'Does anyone want dessert?' asked Blaine, obviously trying to lighten up the conversation.

They bought a plum pie to share, then retreated back up to Blaine's room. Ethan got back into bed, stretching out his injured leg with a groan as Kurt, Blaine and Jeff settled on the threadbare rug in the centre of the room.

'Okay,' said Kurt. 'So, earlier today, my friend Rachel found a letter to Karofsky, our Principal. She – she was pretty worried by it, so she showed it to me and… well, she certainly had reason to be worried. It looks like Roden is preparing to attack Kerajan.'

Ethan's face blanched as Jeff sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

'They haven't done anything open yet,' continued Kurt, 'but there's evidence of the soldiers mobilising around the border. And, er, the school and this village are the closest. If they attack.'

'So, what… are we just going to wait and see what happens?' asked Jeff.

'Yes, I – I think so. For now. But we can't tell anyone. I'm only telling you because you're from Roden and I think you needed to know.' They nodded. 'You also need to come up with some pretty good reasons to have just appeared, injured, jobless, in our village when the local Knight is on the lookout for strangers.'

A small smile settled across Ethan's features as he exchanged a look with Jeff. 'Well,' he said, 'better get cracking, hadn't we?'

Jeff returned a smirk and they began to plan.

* * *

**Reviews make me happy!**

**Also, for anyone wondering what Ethan looks like, I tend to imagine him as brown-haired Josh Hutcherson maybe? He's more on the stocky side than the tall side.**


	10. Chapter 10

**You have every right to kill me in the most gruesome and horrific ways possible. I know this is two and a half weeks late, and I'm _soooo_ sorry, so I'm not gonna grovel with excuses, just give you the chapter.**

**Sorry again.**

* * *

**Chapter 10**

Exactly two weeks after Kurt had laid out his ideas to Blaine, Jeff and Ethan, he was awoken from a very pleasant dream of dappled green light and dark curly hair by a loud shriek and crash from the room next door.

He groaned, mumbling with frustration as he rolled away from the bright light streaming in through the window. He pushed the covers off, yawning, and dragged himself to his feet. Now that he was up, he might as well go and check that Rachel was okay. He pulled on a robe over the top of his nightshirt and linen pants and stumbled across to Rachel's room. He knocked, and soon heard a quiet 'come in' from within.

Rachel was sitting on the floor below the open window, clutching her ankle with a pained look on her face. A breeze was blowing into the room and gentling flapping at the heavy curtains that hung round her bed. 'Kurt,' she gasped painfully when she saw him come in. 'Morning.'

'Are you okay?' he asked, wiping his eyes of any last dregs of sleep as he hurried over to her. 'Did you hurt yourself? Rachel, what were you doing this early in the morning that could cause you to hurt your ankle?'

Rachel shifted so she was leaning back against the trunk below her window, still holding her ankle. 'I was standing on the trunk to look out the window,' she explained. Kurt sighed. 'There's a new warrior tutor working for Coach Beiste. He's staying in one of the rooms across the courtyard and I was trying to catch a glimpse of him because I saw him when I went to pick up Finn from practice on Wednesday and he's really hot.'

Kurt tried to hide his smile as he shook his head at her in despair. It was true, Jeff wasn't bad-looking, but if only she knew. He held out a hand for her.

'Come on,' he said. 'Let's get you to Mrs S-P.' He helped her hobble to her feet.

Jeff had started working at the Academy on Monday. It had been fairly easy to arrange – a simple mention to Coach Beiste that his cousin was coming up to stay with them for a bit whilst his parents made their decennial three month long pilgrimage to his grandfather's grave, a couple of hints dropped about how skilled he was with a sword, and she had offered to meet him to see he was useful the very next day.

Jeff, being the warrior that he was, had of course excelled at everything she had thrown at him and had been granted a position as her assistant – just helping her demonstrate moves, keeping an eye on the apprentices and looking after the weapons. The Academy had provided him with lodgings and a small income, and he had already proven himself adept at his new job.

Ethan, on the other hand, had been a bit harder to place. His injured leg meant that it had been very difficult for him to even be considered for any sort of job that required strength or skill. They had asked around the village, Ethan putting on a very good front of coming from a nearby farm that had been attacked by wolves, his parents killed and his leg maimed. Although the story and Ethan's fairly excellent acting had brought him plenty of pity, no one had wanted to give a job to an injured boy when there were plenty of other able-bodied men who would be better.

Eventually, Kurt had confessed to Rory – without telling him the full story, of course – whilst grooming Pippin at the weekend. Rory had immediately jumped in with plenty of suggestions, most involving working with him – just looking after the horses and tack. When Kurt had reported back later that evening, he was surprised to hear Ethan agree with most of Rory's ideas, eager to help. And so he was to start work as Rory's new sub-groom on Saturday, lodging in the school with Jeff.

Out of all three of the boys, Blaine was the only one who had not yet found something to do. The risk of him being put in danger by being recognised was highest – he was, after all, the main runaway his father was after – so he had been keen to just lay low until he could find something secure to fill his time with. He was still staying at the inn. Kurt had offered several times that he introduce him to his father, giving him the possibility to work in his forge and stay with him and Carole, but he had politely declined, saying that he didn't want to intrude and that he had tried some forgery before but had failed miserably. And so Kurt was still on the lookout for a job for Blaine.

* * *

After Rachel's ankle had been bandaged, and after he had washed and dressed and carefully styled his hair, Kurt was finally able to start his breakfast.

He sat at a long table in the dining hall with the rest of his magic class, squeezed in between Mercedes and Tina. Despite the fact that he had arrived late and that therefore most of his friends had finished eating, the hall was still busy and crowded.

'Where have you been for the past few days, Kurt?' Mercedes was saying. 'We've barely seen you outside of lessons and meals.'

Kurt kept his eyes on his bowl of porridge. 'I was busy,' he said simply.

'With what?' asked Tina. 'Hardly any of the teachers have been giving us homework this early in the sector and I _know_ that you think you have a load more Alchemy than the rest of us, but you _don't_, I've read your homework diary.'

Kurt sighed, ignoring the fact that Tina had admitted to stalking his diary and casting his mind around for an answer. It wasn't easy to come up with a viable excuse in such a short time, so he decided to tell the truth. Or the partial, supposedly true version of it.

'I've been helping out a friend,' he said. 'My cousin. His parents have to travel all the way across to Tard to visit his grandfather's grave, so he had three months to kill. He couldn't really spend them alone so they sent him up here.' He shrugged. 'He was trying to find a job so that he had something to do whilst I was at school. We finally found him one working for Beiste.

Mercedes' jaw dropped. '_That_'s your cousin? The new warrior assistant?'

Kurt nodded.

'Can you introduce us?' Tina asked eagerly.

Kurt smiled to himself as Mike sent Tina a grumpy look from across the table. It was funny to see the girls so excited about someone he knew they could never have. Should he tell them? It probably wasn't wise to out Jeff to people he didn't know, especially in a close-minded place like this – not that any of his friends would care, but if the word got out he could lose his job. No, it was probably better to be vague.

'I'm afraid he's already attached,' he settled on.

A frown crossed Tina's features. 'Is she from –'

'Back where he comes from? Yes.' He scraped up the last of his porridge and stood up to avoid any more awkward questions which required the use of pronouns. 'Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to History.' He gave them a short wave and hurried off to his first lesson.

* * *

Later in the day, Kurt was sitting in the library working on some Rhetoric with Rachel and Mercedes when there was a soft knock on the bookshelf behind them and Rory's face poked round the end. 'Kurt?' he hissed. 'Got a minute?'

Kurt nodded, shutting his books as he stood up. 'Pippin's having some problems with his new bit,' he lied easily to his confused-looking friends. 'Be back soon.'

He ducked into the Anatomy section of the library, dragging Rory after him. 'What is it?' he whispered once he was sure they were out of the girls' hearing range.

'I – erm – I might have an opening for your other friend. Blaine.'

'What, working in the stables?'

'No – it's not – I just – I'm not sure what you'll think of it.' He glanced away, eyes moving shiftily over the books.

'Okay…' said Kurt cautiously. 'Why… what is it?'

'It's, er. Sir Karofsky's valet is sick. Quite badly. And he, um, he's looking for a replacement. Just temporarily, until Jacob's back on his feet. I thought – maybe Blaine could give it a shot?'

Kurt sighed, eyes roving unfocused over the lines of leather-bound books. The thought of Blaine working for Sir Karofsky made something squirm in the pit of his stomach. The thought of anyone having to be at that horrible man's beck and call was enough to make him want to break something, but the fact that it was _Blaine_ – no. He knew how Karofsky would treat him, and if he found out that he was Kurt's friend – well, Kurt didn't want to imagine the consequences.

But Blaine needed something to do to protect him from his father and any spies in the village, and where better to hide than with the very man who was preparing to defend his country against Roden? He would have comfort and shelter and yes, it could be a challenge, but Kurt knew that Blaine would work hard to protect himself.

'Okay,' he breathed out eventually. 'What kind of things does it entail?'

Rory nodded. 'Personal attendance duties – fetching him things, carrying stuff – and keeping an eye on his rooms, carrying messages, and if he's skilled enough, occasionally acting as a bodyguard. Do you think Blaine would be up to it?'

Kurt considered, then nodded. 'I'll ask him this evening.'

'Great. I'll – um – I'll let you go. Bye.'

'Wait, Rory!' Rory glanced back over his shoulder at Kurt. 'Thank you.'

Rory smiled and left the library.

* * *

'So you're saying I would be living in the castle as well?'

Kurt nodded, leaning back against Blaine's bed. 'You'll be provided with food and a bed and you can keep Merry in the stables. I don't know how much free time you'll get, but you can come and see me sometimes as well.' He smiled at Blaine, trying to keep a too-hopeful look off his face.

Blaine sighed, running a hand over his eyes. 'I don't know,' he said. 'Everything you've told me about him – I just – I don't know if I could work for someone like that.'

'I know,' Kurt said simply. 'I was the same at first.' He took Blaine's hand from where it lay on the floor between them and pressed it between his own. 'But Blaine, you could be in danger. We don't know if your father has any spies in this neck of the woods yet but we _do_ know that he's looking for you. And I don't want to imagine what he'll do to you if he does find you.' Blaine frowned, looking away from Kurt. 'So don't you think it's better to keep yourself safe? He's not going to be expecting you to be working for Sir Karofsky, and Karofsky isn't going to expect _you_ to be his son. You'll be perfectly hidden. Come on, trust me.'

Blaine's deep hazel eyes met Kurt's with a fond look and he smiled, placing his hand atop their other ones. 'Okay,' he said. 'I'll do it.'

Kurt grinned and pulled him into a hug. 'Rory said you need to talk to Mrs Hagberg and she'll set you up with a meeting or something to see if you'll do. Which I'm sure you will, of course.'

'When? Tomorrow?'

'Tomorrow will be perfect. Meet me at the back gate first thing in the morning and I'll take you to see her, okay? I don't mind skipping breakfast.'

'Kurt, you shouldn't –'

'No, shh,' said Kurt, standing up and pulling Blaine to his feet along with him. 'I'll be fine.' He hugged him again. 'See you bright and early tomorrow, Blaine.'

'Bye.'

* * *

Kurt scuffed the dirty floor with the toe of his boot, attempting to prise of some of the caked mud as he waited. He could hear voices beyond the door, talking quietly, occasional pauses between them. It was getting dark outside and through the high anteroom windows he could see clouds drifting over, foreboding rain.

The latch on the door behind him clunked as it was pulled open. Blaine stepped out, smoothing down the front of his tunic, a strange look on his face.

'How did it go?' asked Kurt.

'It… it was fine. Good, even.' Blaine dropped into pace beside him as they set off down the corridor. 'But he – I see what you meant. He's awful.'

Kurt nodded. 'Did you get the job?'

'Yeah,' said Blaine. 'I start on Monday. I'm staying in the servants' quarters with Ethan and Jeff, so that'll be nice. But the list of stuff he told I was going to have to do – ugh, thank goodness I'm a decent hardworker.'

'But nothing you can't easily take into stride, I presume?'

Blaine grinned. 'Of course not. I just wish I was working for someone nicer.'

'We both do, I think.' Kurt stopped in the courtyard, looking up through the branches of the oak tree that spread across it at the sky. 'I don't think it's going to rain quite yet. Can I walk you back to the inn?'

'Of course.'

They walked in easy silence until they had left the school, only starting to talk quietly about the full details of Blaine's job when they had passed the first couple of houses in the village. Eventually they got to the inn and up to Blaine's room.

'Well, I hope it doesn't rain on you on the way back,' said Blaine as Kurt loitered by the door.

'I'll be fine. I can always create an anti-rain film to have above my head if it does.'

'Ah, magic. Of course.' Blaine smiled again as he unbuttoned his jacket. 'Are we meeting up over the weekend?'

Kurt nodded. 'I'll drop by tomorrow.' He glanced out the window where it was now fully dark. 'I'd best be going. I hope you have a good evening.'

'You too,' said Blaine, pulling him into a hug. 'Thank you,' he said softly into Kurt's ear. 'This means a lot to me.'

'I know.'

They pulled apart. 'Stay safe,' warned Kurt. 'Goodnight!'

'Night, Kurt.' The door dropped shut behind him on Blaine's easy smile, and he grinned into the darkness of the corridor.

Blaine was coming to live in the castle, and suddenly, they would be seeing a whole lot more of each other.

* * *

**Okay, so I know I made you wait for ages and then that wasn't *particularly* exciting, but something pretty important is coming up in the next chapter (or the one after). Hooray! **

******Also, at one point Tina mentions 'sectors': their school year is split up into five different sectors, each nine weeks long, with a week in between them and three weeks in the summer. The task the magic class had to do was over one of the holidays between the two - and because there are no distinct grades, becoming an apprentice could be considered as the next 'level' of school.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Well. After years and years and years of delaying (Christmas, New Year's, exams, coursework, you don't really need to know), I have finally got round to finishing this chapter. As an apology (I guess?) it's nice and looong and juicy. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

'Did they ever find out about it?'

Blaine shook his head, smiling around his mouthful of cabbage. 'Nope. Three years they hid it, Wes told me. Three years and not a single monitor ever came across it. Which is weird, 'cause they checked our room every evening. Trent and I pushed the dresser in front of it and they never even noticed it had been moved.'

Kurt raised his eyebrows. 'How many people could you fit in there, though?' He chewed his potato slowly, totally detached from the meal and far too interested in hearing about Blaine's escapades at his old school.

Blaine twisted his features in thought. 'About… five? I think? We used to stash food in there and eat it at night. Nick and Jeff used to use it for, um… you know. Too.'

'And you still ate in there?!' exclaimed Kurt. He sighed, shaking his head, and scraped the last couple of carrots onto his fork.

Blaine smiled, finishing his potato. 'You done?' he asked casually when Kurt laid down his cutlery. Kurt nodded and they stood up, chairs scraping as the barman came over to clear their plates. Kurt lingered as Blaine slid him a couple of coins – he had _insisted_ on paying for all expenses at the inn, even though Kurt had no idea where his money came from. They wandered over to the door, Kurt grinning as Blaine courteously held it open for him.

The night air was brisk and carried a faint scent of wood smoke. Kurt watched Blaine out of the corner of his eye as they walked, hands pressed deep into his pockets to warm them. Soft moonlight was dappling down through the thin cloud layer, catching in the Blaine's dark curls and making his skin seem to glow. He looked absolutely beautiful.

Kurt sucked in a deep breath of air and looked away.

They got back to the yard gate and stopped. Kurt glanced up at Blaine awkwardly, pressing his hands deeper into his pockets.

'So, er… goodnight,' he muttered.

Blaine nodded, smiling. 'I… um, I'll come and find you when I get a free hour. Sir Karofsky said I had free time every evening.'

'Do you – are you sure you're okay with doing this?'

'Kurt,' Blaine said softly. He looked up, catching Blaine's steady gaze. 'I'll be fine. I need to stay safe, and we know that this is the best way I can do that and still be around you.'

Kurt shrugged. 'You could leave, you know. Head to Varrod. You'd be safer there.'

Blaine sighed, reaching out a hand as if he was going to touch him, but then dropped it back down by his side. 'No, I'm not going to do that.' This time he did touch Kurt, laying a hand gently on his shoulder. 'I'm not going to leave you.'

Kurt smiled weakly and Blaine pulled him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around Blaine's shoulders, burying his face into his shoulder and breathing the familiar scent in deeply. Blaine's grip tightened briefly before they pulled away.

'I hope tomorrow goes well,' murmured Kurt. 'Sir Karofsky can be… I don't know. Harsh. He doesn't really care about the wellbeing of his servants.' He couldn't help the hint of venom that had slipped into his voice. 'Don't let him get you down, okay? I'll be in my room as soon as lessons are done. Just pretend you're on an errand or something if you want to come up and see me.'

Blaine nodded, quickly hugged him again, and set off back down the path towards the village with a wave.

Kurt sighed, slumping against the gate post, watching his vanishing form. He was conflicted. If Blaine kept his job and stayed in the castle, he would be so much closer to Kurt, so much safer, and who knew what could happen between them? He felt a small smile lift the corner of his mouth. It would be nice to have Blaine around more, certainly, rather than only seeing him occasionally after school and on weekends.

But at the same time, the thought of Blaine working for Sir Karofsky – the man whose son made Kurt's life hell, and did nothing to stop it – left an unsettled feeling in his stomach. He wanted Blaine to be safe, but he really didn't want it to have to happen the way it was.

Huffing into the cold night air, he turned back to the castle.

* * *

Nervously, Kurt tapped his quill against his cheek and glanced up at the clock.

There were still another thirty minutes until the end of the lesson. Too long. Kurt sighed and turned back to his parchment as his Anatomy teacher droned on about humours and blood flow. He attempted to take a few notes – he knew that he needed to learn this, they had a test coming up in a couple of weeks that he couldn't fail. But it was boring and he was preoccupied and soon he was back to nervously tapping his quill again.

When the bell finally sounded a long gong to signal the end of the lessons for the day, he was up and out of the classroom before Mercedes even had a chance to grab his arm. He rushed down the corridor and up to his room, only briefly waving at Rachel when she attempted to pull his aside to talk to him.

Finally, _finally,_ he was in his room. He dropped his bag down by the desk and set about getting some wood on the fire – it was getting colder, now, and he had started wearing more layers again. He lit it quickly with a simple spell.

Almost right on time, there was a knock on the door, and he jumped up, hurrying to open it. Blaine stood awkwardly on the threshold, holding a large heap of sheets.

'Hi,' he grinned.

Kurt grinned back and pulled the door open, checking up and down the corridor. It was deserted.

'So,' he started as Blaine dropped the sheets onto Kurt's bed. 'How did – wait, let's sit down.' They settled in opposite armchairs beside the fire. Kurt drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, watching Blaine over the top. 'How did it go?'

Blaine shrugged. 'It was… not as bad as it could have been. Pretty intense. I've pretty much been working non-stop since six this morning.'

'What?' exclaimed Kurt. 'Blaine, that's almost twelve hours, he should have given you some kind of break –'

'It's fine, I had a lunch break. It was only fifteen minutes, but still. It was something.' He fiddled with the carving on the arm of the chair, running his finger over the chiselled wood. 'Actually, he didn't seem that bothered about me taking an hour off each night. I thought he would be.'

Kurt nodded. 'What about the workload?'

Blaine sighed and ran his hands through his hair. 'Tiring. But not too hard. He wasn't going easy on me on my first day, though.'

They continued chatting quietly about their days until Blaine glanced at the clock and jumped up, quickly grabbing the pile of sheets and hugging Kurt. 'I'll see you tomorrow, okay?'

'Okay,' Kurt answered. 'Bye.'

He stood in the middle of the room after Blaine had left, rubbing his arms, staring at the door. It hadn't been as bad as they had thought. Thank goodness. It may have been tiring and busy and hard, but Sir Karofsky hadn't been cruel, and Blaine was fine. He was safe, and he was fine.

With a sigh of relief, Kurt sank down onto his bed.

* * *

Over the next three weeks, a pattern began to emerge. Kurt would head down to breakfast every morning, catch Blaine's eye where he was sitting at the servants' table and smiling secretly at him. The morning would pass quickly until lunch, where Kurt would try to see Blaine in the Dining Hall – harder than it sounded, as Blaine's lunch break was not regularly timed – and then head to afternoon lessons. These would drag on, each passing minute making Kurt antsier until he could rush up to his room and see Blaine. They would chat for an hour, until Blaine would hurry back downstairs, leaving Kurt with a hug and a quick 'bye'. Occasionally Blaine wouldn't be able to make it – if he had to accompany Sir Karofsky on an outing, or had to attend whilst he received guests. He would always notify Kurt, though, usually by a note slid under his bedroom door when he woke up.

He had Sundays off, and he and Kurt made the most of them. The first Sunday he had off, they spent in the wood to the east of the village. Blaine showed Kurt how to shoot a bow, Kurt's heart rate quickening when Blaine moulded himself to his side as he positioned him correctly. Blaine shot a pheasant and they cooked it, eating it for lunch. Blaine watched, snorting, as Kurt manipulated the feathers they had plucked into various shapes in midair. The day brought back memories of their first meeting, the time spent in the Forest, tracking and hunting and camping. It warmed something in Kurt's heart.

* * *

The second Sunday, they visited Kurt's family. Blaine seemed nervous about meeting Kurt's father, but Kurt simply prodded his arm and told him to relax. They had decided a couple of days ago to tell his parents about Blaine's situation, Kurt knowing that they would be eager to help in any way possible, but that didn't make either of them less nervous.

On arrival, they found Carole pulling up carrots in the little vegetable garden at the front of the house. When Kurt called her name, she straightened up, smiling and wiping her hands.

'Kurt, honey,' she said, coming over and hugging him, careful to keep her muddy hands off his clothes. 'It's lovely to see you, dear.' She eyed Blaine, a small smile playing at her lips. 'And who's this?'

'Er, Carole, this is Blaine,' answered Kurt, dropping a hand onto Blaine's shoulder. 'He's my – friend.'

Carole shook Blaine's hand pleasantly, eyeing him over again. 'Do you want to come inside? I'll see if I can fix you some tea.'

'Thank you,' they said simultaneously. Kurt caught Blaine's eye and grinned.

They followed her into the large central room that made up most of Burt and Carole's house. A big wooden table stood off to the side, beside a huge fireplace, covered in pots and pans and cooking utensils. On the opposite side of the room were several comfortably worn chairs and a couple of bookshelves. A door was set into the wall opposite them that Kurt knew led off to the three bedrooms and Burt's forge.

Carole ushered them in to the little seating area and made sure they were settled before returning to the kitchen to make tea.

'Do you want any help, Carole?' Kurt called over his shoulder.

'No, no, honey, it's fine. You stay over there and keep your friend company.'

Kurt noticed Blaine rubbing his knee awkwardly as he gazed around the room. He reached over and took his hand to reassure him – he knew Blaine had been worried about meeting his family, anxious about what they would say when they found out about his past. He returned Kurt's grip with a grateful squeeze, dropping his hand again as Carole pottered over with a ceramic pot of tea and several mugs.

She served them all, and started by asking Kurt about how his week has gone. He was thankful she hadn't started off by interrogating Blaine; she was clearly at least a little bit aware of his discomfort.

Just when Kurt was telling her about the A he had received in his latest Tactics test, there was a gruff cough from the back corridor and Burt strode in, still in his leather apron, sweat and soot coating his arms and face.

'Carole, hun, could you fix me a dri –' He stopped talking when his eyes landed on Blaine, a neutral expression on his face as he gave him the once-over. 'Oh, hello. Who's this?'

'Dad, this is –'

'I'm Blaine,' he answered, standing up and offering Burt his hand. 'I'm friends with Kurt. I work at the castle.'

Burt nodded slowly, then cautiously gripped Blaine's hand. 'Nice to meet you,' he eventually said, dropping Blaine's hand and looking over at Kurt.

Kurt saw his father's raised eyebrows and gestured that he sit. He did.

Kurt leant forward in his chair, twisting his fingers together as he always did when he was nervous. 'Um, Dad, Carole, I think I should tell you… about how I met Blaine. Some… bad things could be coming up, and it's probably better that you know.' He glanced over at Blaine, whose expression was indecipherable, but nodded anyway.

'Okay,' he began, straightening up. 'So, you remember when Mr Schue sent us on that task a couple of months ago? That was when I first met Blaine.'

When Kurt and Blaine finished telling Kurt's parents everything, it was like a weight had been lifted off their chests. Sure, Jeff and Ethan and even partially Rachel knew about what was going on, but having adults who, in Carole's case especially, had experienced the fear of war before, was strangely comforting. They had taken the news about Blaine's family well, had even offered him a place to hide in their house if the worst came to the worst and the school was somehow compromised. Kurt could almost feel Blaine's relief radiating off him. He wouldn't stop glancing at Kurt and grinning. Kurt always smiled back, himself thankful for the opportunities that telling his parents had been offered to Blaine.

After talking for so long, they were all hungry, and Carole invited Blaine over to the kitchen area to help her fix up some dinner.

Burt caught Kurt's eye and subtly gestured that he follow him. An uneasy feeling of anticipation settled in Kurt's stomach as he got up and followed his father down the hall to the forge. Burt settled down on the edge of the big stone furnace, crossing his arms over his chest as he observed Kurt.

'So,' he said after a few moments. 'You and Blaine. You together?'

Kurt felt his face flush violently as he avoided his father's gaze. 'No, Dad,' he hissed. 'I don't even know if he's gay, I – just because I brought a male friend home doesn't necessarily mean that I'm dating him.'

'Okay, kid, keep your hair on, I was only checking. It's just… you guys seem pretty close.'

Kurt blushed again, rubbing his hand over his eyes as he smiled. 'We are, Dad. You don't go through this kind of thing without forming some sort of bond.'

'Hmm,' acknowledged Burt. He turned round, glancing over at the forge. 'You still up to doing a bit of smithing?' he asked. 'It's been ages since you last had a go, and we don't want to distract Carole from doing the magic she usually does.'

Kurt smiled and grabbed a leather apron.

About three quarters of an hour later, when Kurt was holding three cooling iron wheel spokes in an old rag, they were summoned for dinner.

'Boys!' Carole's voice carried down the hallway. 'Come eat!'

The food was simple but delicious – pork that was left over from the previous evening, cabbage that was cooked to a perfect balance between soft and slightly crunchy, roasted potatoes and carrots. Blaine had tried to insist that it was all too much, but had been simultaneously shushed by Kurt and Carole sent to peel carrots. There was fruit and freshly homemade yogurt for dessert. The conversation was light and easy, a relief after the morning's discussion.

When lunch had finished, Kurt and Blaine helped clear up, then decided to head back to the castle – it was starting to get late a lot earlier now, and even at mid-afternoon the sky was beginning to darken. Kurt hugged his father and kissed Carole, made sure that Blaine said goodbye properly too, grinned when Burt pulled their handshake into a rough hug and Carole gave him a peck on the cheek.

'Look out for yourself, bud,' said Burt, patting him on the shoulder. 'If what you and Kurt have told us is true, we've got some tricky times up ahead. Just remember that Carole and I are always here to help, got that?'

Blaine nodded, eyes wide, and allowed him to be pulled out of the house by Kurt.

* * *

Kurt awoke late on the morning of the third Sunday since Blaine had begun, rubbing his eyes against the harsh white light streaming in through a crack in his curtains and pushing himself up in bed. To his surprise, he saw Mercedes seated in one the chairs in front of the fireplace, nursing a mug of cocoa.

'Mer – Mercedes?' he mumbled, sitting up properly. 'What are you doing here?'

Mercedes glanced up, a grin breaking out across her features before they slipped into a more concerned smile. 'It's nice to see you still exist,' she said, putting down the cocoa and beckoning him over. Kurt stumbled out of bed, pulling his robe on, and curled up in a chair opposite her.

'What?' he asked sleepily when she passed him his own cocoa.

'I said, it's a relief to know you're still with us. Where have you been for the past month, Boo? You've got us all worried.'

'But – I – you've seen me in class…'

'Exactly,' she said sternly. 'We have _only_ seen you in class. You used to hang out with me and Tina and Rachel all the time, Kurt, what's going on? Are you having another family crisis or something that I need to know about?'

Kurt knew she was referring to the horrible episode last year when his father had nearly died of a heart attack. It had been a terrifying week of over-priced physician's bills and nights spent by his father's bedside, gripping his limp hand, and they had all been eternally relieved when he had finally squeezed Kurt's hand back.

'No,' said Kurt, shaking his head. 'I – it's not – quite that.'

'What do you mean, Boo?'

Kurt glanced up at Mercedes over his mug, the concerned look in her eyes melting his resolve. It couldn't be that bad to let her know, he thought. She was by far the most trustable of his friends, and the one he had known the longest. She would know to keep this to herself.

'I, um, I met someone.'

He was greeted by a puzzled silence, then he saw as it dawned in her eyes, an grin splitting across her face. 'Oh my gosh, Kurt!' she exclaimed. 'That's amazing! How long ago? Are you dating? What's his name?'

Kurt laughed. 'Okay, okay, calm down,' he muttered, taking a long draught of cocoa. 'I met him… on my task, actually. He – moved to the village a few weeks later. His name's Blaine. And, um, no, we're not… dating. I don't even know if he's gay.' _But I suspect it_, he added in his head.

Mercedes grinned as Kurt told her about Blaine's job in the castle and how he was not in fact related to either Ethan or Jeff, just that they were friends of Blaine's that had "moved" with him and needed a hand finding something to do. He was careful to keep as much information about Blaine's past and the reason for his coming to Callahan hidden, unsure whether Mercedes would take it as easily as his parents had.

'So am I officially kicked out of the best friend spot?' she teased.

'No,' laughed Kurt. 'Of course not. You might just have to make a little more room for someone else up there. I still love you just as much.'

'You love him, too?'

Kurt choked on his cocoa, coughing violently and spilling it on the rug. '_Mercedes_,' he grunted. 'I – no. Maybe. I don't know. I definitely _like_ him, though.'

Mercedes gave him a coy smile. 'I bet he's a pretty good piece of man-flesh to get you blushing like that, Kur –'

They were interrupted by three knocks on the door and a soft call of 'Kurt?'

'That's him,' Kurt hissed, attempting to wipe up some of the cocoa he had spilt on himself. 'I guess you get to meet him now, at least.'

He opened the door quickly and Blaine strode in, a grin on his face and basket with a couple of blankets in his arms. 'Hey!' he exclaimed. 'Okay, so I know you said you wanted to go down to the lake today, I thought we could make it into a picnic…' He trailed off when he noticed Mercedes. 'Um, hi,' he said softly.

Mercedes grinned at him before sending an impressed look to Kurt. 'Er, Blaine,' started Kurt, 'this is Mercedes. Mercedes, this is Blaine. I think I've mentioned enough of you to the other for you to know who they are.'

'You work for Karofsky, right?' asked Mercedes. Blaine nodded. 'Yeah, I've seen you around. I would never have guessed you were friends with Kurt, though.'

She stood up, gathering up the mugs and turning towards the door. 'I heard a picnic mentioned. Have fun.' She winked at Kurt before leaving the room.

Kurt sighed. 'Sorry,' he said. 'She was here when I woke up. You can trust her, don't worry.'

'Did you tell her about me?' asked Blaine.

'A bit. Nothing really about your background.' He motioned to the things still in Blaine's arms. 'I'm going to get changed, then we're going on that picnic, okay? It sounds great.'

Blaine nodded, still looking slightly stunned, as Kurt gathered up some clothes that he deemed appropriate for outdoor wear and headed into the bathroom.

By the time they reached the bank of the lake that lay a little to the south of the castle, a weak midday sun had risen above the cloud cover. They set up a couple of blankets in the sun on the grassy shore, near enough to the water that they could throw pebbles in but far enough away to escape any waves if the wind picked up. Kurt settled down on the blankets, shielding his eyes as he looked around at the beautiful landscape then up at Blaine's face. 'So what are we eating?' he asked.

Grinning, Blaine put the basket down between them and dropped to his knees. He produced rolls, half a slab of cheese, fresh tomatoes, cold meat, hard-boiled eggs, buns and a bottle of lemon-flavoured drink.

'Wow, Blaine,' said Kurt. 'You really went the extra mile.'

'Yes, well. I wanted this to be… nice.'

'It certainly is.'

They started on the picnic, constructing rolls from the various ingredients and pouring drinks of "lemonade", as Blaine called it. He said that it had been a regular occurrence in Roden, had they never heard of it here? Kurt shook his head, enjoying the new and slightly fizzy taste on his tongue. Blaine simply laughed and refilled his glass.

When they were full, they lounged back on the blankets, looking up at the sky, which had cleared enough now for there to be small, distinct clouds. Kurt pointed out one that had the vague shape of a dog, Blaine swatting his hand away and saying it looked at lot more like a goat. He let Blaine describe them from then on; he seemed to be a lot more creative in his naming of cloud formations, after all.

'Do you want to go for a swim?' Blaine asked out of the blue, just as Kurt felt himself begin to drop off.

'Huh?' he said. 'Blaine, it's nearly winter. Don't you think it would be too cold to swim?'

'No!' answered Blaine. 'It's sunny and –' he jumped up, running down to the water's edge and swiping his fingers through it – 'the water's not too cold. Come on, Kurt, it'll be fun!'

Kurt sighed. 'Fine.'

He tried to keep his eyes averted as Blaine stripped excitedly to his undershorts, but he couldn't help the occasional glance at Blaine's tanned expanse of back, the firm muscles in his calves, the roundness of his a – _No, Kurt_, he told himself sternly. He stripped down to his undershorts and undershirt too, glad that he had thought to wear one today. Turning back to the lake, he saw Blaine watching him with an amused expression, and – _Gosh, his chest, how does he expect me to just have fun and _swim_ when he has that much skin on display?_

'Shirt off, Kurt, come on, you'll need it to keep you warm when you get out.'

Nervously, Kurt unlaced and pulled off his undershirt, folding it onto his pile of clothes as the cool afternoon air brushed his skin. He shivered, glancing down at his pale bare chest. He had never really felt comfortable in his own skin – too skinny, too pale, too _girly_. But when he turned back to the lake and saw the way Blaine gaped, saw his eyes sweep up and down his body, he couldn't help but feel a faint glimmer of hope that maybe he wasn't as boring-looking as he felt.

'Um,' said Blaine, shaking himself and returning his gaze to Kurt's eyes. 'Let's go.'

He turned around and ran into the water, shouting happily as he splashed at Kurt. Kurt ducked, trying to shield himself with his arms, but Blaine had aimed well and he gasped as a chilly splash hit him in the face.

'Oh, you are _on_, Mr Anderson,' he said, grinning and running after Blaine.

They splashed and swam around until they were both shivering and starting to wrinkle, at which point Kurt firmly told Blaine that they were getting out _now_, he did _not_ spend half an hour every morning and evening going through his skincare regime to have in ruined by murky lake water. Blaine sighed and followed him out of the lake, both of them grabbing blankets to wrap themselves up in to get warm.

Once they were both warm and dry and dressed again, they sat side by side, looking out over the water as the sun set. It was nice, Kurt thought, having his side pressed up against Blaine's through the blanket wrapped around both of them, nice to be alone out here without the distraction of school and work and other people. He sighed tiredly, and very, very gently, laid his head down on Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine didn't move, but Kurt saw his jaw shape change as he smiled. He felt a warm hand in his and looked down at where Blaine had tangled their fingers together. Squeezing them gently, he nuzzled Blaine's shoulder with his nose, looking up at the appearing stars.

They sat like that, in comfortable silence, for a long time, until Kurt felt Blaine's shoulder shifting under his cheek and sat up properly.

'Something on your mind?' he asked softly.

Blaine glanced up at him through his long lashes, and – wow, Kurt had never really noticed Blaine's eyelashes before, but now that he had, they had him entranced. 'No,' he replied just as quietly. 'I'm just… this is nice. I kind of feel… removed from everything here, you know? Like I don't have to worry about everything that's going on right now.'

Kurt nodded and squeezed Blaine's hand again. 'We're going to do our best to keep you safe, you know that. And if – and I am _not_ going to let it happen, Blaine – but _if_ he does find you…' He paused, making eye contact, the golden-green of Blaine's eyes shining in the moonlight. 'You know that I'll always be with you. In here.' He pressed their interlocked fingers to Blaine's chest, just above his heart, swallowing heavenly. 'I just – _Blaine_. Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?'

Blaine's mouth dropped open a little, but he didn't say anything. Kurt steeled himself. 'I know I'm not normal,' he said quietly. 'I'm quirky and stubborn and worried about my future, as well as yours.' He paused, taking a deep breath. 'But if there's one thing I am absolutely sure of, Blaine, it's the way I feel about you.'

And he leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to Blaine's.

His lips were soft, dry and a tiny bit cracked from the lake water. Kurt slid his own against them gently, eyes shut, hand tightening around Blaine's. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss as he felt Blaine's lips begin to move against his. His head swam, he couldn't focus, suddenly understanding what Rachel had meant when she had explained how amazing her first kiss with Finn had been. Gently, he moved his free hand up to Blaine's face, cupping his jaw and sighing gently as he opened his mouth.

Suddenly he tipped forward, hands grasping at thin air, pushing himself upright as he opened his eyes. Blaine was standing in front of him, hand over his mouth, tears in his eyes. Kurt gaped up at him, confused, brain still slightly fuzzy from the euphoria of kissing Blaine.

'I'm sorry, Kurt,' he gasped. 'I can't.'

And with that he turned and ran back towards the castle.

* * *

**Please don't kill me! I only have three exams left, I promise to update soon!**


	12. Chapter 12

**I'm back! And terribly sorry for my constant inability to update frequently. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter 12**

'Blaine?' Kurt called out weakly at the pale form disappearing between the trees. There was no answer. Mouth hanging slightly ajar in shocked confusion, he turned back round slowly. What… what just happened?

He scrabbled to his feet as his brain caught up with him, telling himself to _run_, _go after him_. He nearly tripped over the blankets as he ran up the bank, pushing through the bushes and trees, feeling a sharp sting on his cheek as a branch whipped by. 'Blaine!' he shouted, louder this time. 'Blaine!'

He broke through the tree line and stopped, peering up the long field that led to the back of the castle. There was no sign of Blaine.

Sighing, Kurt sank to the ground, wrapping his arms around himself at the cool chill of the air. He had been convinced, almost _certain_, that he had been right. The way Blaine had looked at him, the soft smiles, warm hugs and gentle hand holds – had they all meant nothing? Cursing himself at his stupidity, he stood up and made his way back through the trees to the picnic spot. He didn't know Blaine, not properly, not enough to assume. He had read the signals wrong, of course he couldn't tell Blaine's sexuality from a few friendly gestures, and of course he had just assumed Blaine was attracted to him – stupid, vain, _him_, he was just being friendly, and now Kurt had ruined any chance for that friendship to continue, stupid, stupid, _idiot_ –

He tripped over the blankets again and landed on his side, ribs aching where they were pressed against a root that stretched down to the water. Groaning, he pushed himself to his knees and began to pick the picnic things.

The walk home was cold without Blaine's bright smile and warm eyes. A gust of wind picked up when he reached the southern bridge, huddling into the corner between the wall and gate as he waited for the guard to open it. The wind dropped once he was inside, but the whistling echoed under the doors and through window cracks all the way up to his room.

It was lonely inside – no noises coming from the rest of the corridor, everyone still at dinner or out for the evening. He dropped everything in a pile by the end of his bed and sank into an armchair, drawing his knees up to his chest and burying his face in them.

There was a lump in his throat and teardrops forming in his eyes, but he held them back. He wasn't going to cry, not when this was all his fault. He had been the one to ruin everything, little mind the fact that Blaine had run away, he should be the one to make it better. He had to find Blaine and apologise, tell him that if he didn't want to be friends anymore, he would stay away, give him his space and forget everything that could have been.

Determined, he wiped his eyes and pushed himself out of his chair.

The residential wing was deserted, and besides, Blaine probably wouldn't have come here anyway. Still, he checked all the little alcoves and sitting areas that dotted the corridors to ensure there was no sign of him. Nothing. He peered into the Dining Hall, which was mostly filled with people eating, but there was no head of dark curls at the servants' table, or anywhere else. Sighing, he ducked out of the doorway and headed to the servants quarters.

He didn't come down here often – he had only visited Blaine twice since his arrival, and had only come once before that to see Jeff and Ethan. The corridors were significantly narrower than the ones in the main school, the doorways lower, the walls grubby and floors slanted. A couple of chambermaids wandered past him on the way to dinner, but otherwise the quarters seemed pretty deserted.

Blaine's room was on the second floor, right at the end of the corridor. He stopped before it, taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves. He could do this. He could do this.

He raised his hand and knocked.

There was no answer. He tried again, louder this time. Still nothing. 'Blaine?' he called. 'Are you in there?'

Groaning in frustration when there was no reply _again_, Kurt magically unlocked the door and gently pushed it open.

Inside, no sign of Blaine. The bed was made, a stack of clothes neatly folded on the dresser, a few dismal flowers stood in a vase on the windowsill. His bow was missing from where he had noticed it leaning against the wall the last time he had visited. Looking around more closely, Kurt noticed a blanket missing from his bed and the wax still drying in the candle on his bedside table.

Blaine was gone, and he had _just_ missed him. Cursing himself, Kurt returned to his room.

* * *

The next morning dragged by. It had taken a few moments for Kurt to remember what happened when he woke up, and it hit him with a heavy feeling of guilt and frustration at himself. He was late to breakfast, hair still mussed, clothes barely even coordinated.

'Kurt, are you okay?' Mercedes asked carefully as he stared moodily at his cereal.

Kurt glanced up, taking in her concerned expression. 'I'm fine,' he muttered.

Mercedes was silent for a moment. 'Okay,' she said. 'Is this about Blaine?'

Kurt felt a pang of worry as he remembered that Mercedes knew. He dropped his spoon into his bowl and stood up. 'I don't want to talk about this now. Later. I'll tell you later.' Seeing the anxiety in her eyes, he briefly bent down and hugged her. 'I'll see you in Alchemy.'

He left the dining hall with one last scan to check that Blaine hadn't surreptitiously come in while he was eating – but no, the familiar head of black curls was still painfully absent.

Alchemy dragged into English which dragged into History which dragged into Tactics. Kurt barely heard what the teachers were saying. He couldn't concentrate; couldn't think about anything other than how he had ruined everything, how he had blown the only small chance he was sure he was going to have at any kind of romance. By the time he was packing up his maps and parchments for lunch, Kurt realised he had only taken half a page's notes during the entire morning.

He ate lunch briefly, sitting with Tina and Mike – he didn't want to talk to Mercedes yet, he wasn't sure if he was ready. They didn't ask questions, and weren't too perturbed when he left early with a quick way goodbye.

He immediately made his way over to the stables. He could see Rory, not on his lunch break yet, forking hay off a cart and into a pile by the stable door.

'Rory!' he called as he approached. Rory glanced up, his face breaking into an easy grin when he noticed Kurt.

'Hey, Kurt,' he said. 'Do you need something? Want me to help you tack up Pippin?'

'No, no, it's not that.' Kurt glanced into the stables. 'I – um – did Blaine come in and take Merry last night? Around dinner time? I can't find him anywhere, and I really need to talk to him.'

Rory twisted his mouth and shrugged. 'Sorry, can't help you, mate. I was eating.' Kurt felt a pang of disappointment. 'But you can go in and see if Merry's there, and – oh yes, of course, Ethan was there. I think he's having lunch at the moment, but you can wait and ask him, if you want.'

'I – yeah, I will, thank you.' Kurt shrugged his bag further up his shoulder and glanced around. 'I'm going to check if Merry's still here, um…'

'I'll tell Ethan to find you when he comes back.'

'Thank you, Rory. You're the best.' Rory smiled, and Kurt turned to go inside, steeling himself.

Pippin greeted him joyously from his stall when he entered, the high-pitched whinny only barely lifting Kurt's spirits. 'Hey, honey,' he said, walking over and gently rubbing Pippin's nose. 'Is your friend still here?'

Peering into the stall a few doors along from Pippin's, Kurt felt a sharp pang of dismay when he saw it was empty. The door was hanging open – obviously Blaine had forgotten to lock it again in his haste to leave. The thought only served to increase Kurt's uneasy mood.

'Kurt?' came a call from the stables door. Ethan was limping towards him – his foot was nearly healed now, but he still walked funny – with a smile on his face. 'Hey dude,' he said. 'Rory said you wanted to ask me something?'

Kurt nodded. 'I, um, yes. Did you – did you happen to see Blaine leave last night? In a hurry? I've looked for him everywhere and his bow is gone from his room and Merry's not here and he's not been at breakfast –'

'Yes.'

'Oh.'

'Kurt, I… I'm sorry. He – well, he didn't say what happened, but he looked… well. Yeah. I got that something went down. Do you know…?'

Kurt nodded minutely. 'Yeah,' he said softly. 'I know what happened.'

'Oh, well I was wondering, because he really didn't look all that great – hey, Kurt, are you okay?' Kurt rubbed away the few tears that had managed to slither out and shrugged. 'Oh, Kurt, come on, man, sit down, tell me what this is about.'

'No – I – he –'

'It's okay, come on.' He pulled Kurt over to sit on top of a tack box, awkwardly perching beside him. Kurt sniffed, rubbing away more tears from his eyes. Merry wasn't here. Blaine was actually _gone_, had taken his bow and his bag and his horse and left Kurt to deal with his guilt. And it was all Kurt's fault. And now Ethan was here, Blaine's friend, and he was being _nice_ and trying to help and it was just making everything sting even more.

He tried to stop the tears, try to stop his shoulders from shaking, but he _couldn't_. He felt Ethan gingerly lay an arm around them as he began to sob.

'Hey, Kurt, come on, it's okay…'

Kurt continued to sob into his hand, shoulders wracking forwards as Ethan awkwardly tried to comfort him. Soon he felt a handkerchief being pressed into his palm, and looked up through glossy eyes to see Rory watching him with a very concerned expression. He patted Kurt's shoulder, then Ethan nodded at him briefly in thanks and he left quietly. Kurt pressed the handkerchief to his face, doing his best to try and clean up the mess of snot and tears.

'Ugh, why do I always have to cry _so much_?' he muttered with a small laugh. 'I'm sorry, I just… okay.' He took a deep breath, blew his nose, took another deep breath. 'I think I'm fine now.' He stuffed the handkerchief up his sleeve and turned to Ethan.

'You don't have to tell me. If you don't want to.'

Kurt considered. Ethan had known Blaine longer than him, probably knew him better too – surely he could trust him with what happened?

'We… um, yesterday.' He wasn't sure how to begin. 'Blaine and I went down to the lake to have a picnic. It was nice. We ate, and swam a bit, and everything was just going really well, and I just felt so – so sure, you know? And then… I don't know what happened.'

Ethan still looked a little confused. Kurt drew in a large gulp of air. 'I kissed him, Ethan,' he said softly.

Realisation dawned on Ethan's face and he felt his arm tighten around his shoulders. 'He didn't… he rejected you?'

Kurt nodded shakily. 'At – at first he was kissing me back, but then… then he wasn't. And he just said he "couldn't", and ran back to the castle. And – I just – it's all my fault. I ruined everything. I thought he liked me, but I was wrong, and I ruined it and now he's left and I don't even know if he's going to come back and it's all because of me and I just _assumed_ and I was only seeing what I wanted to see and he could get himself killed out there if the wrong person finds him and I don't know what to do –'

'Kurt,' Ethan said firmly. Kurt continued rambling under his breath. '_Kurt_.'

Kurt quietened and looked up, taking in Ethan's worried features. 'Let's get you inside, okay? What lessons do you have this afternoon?'

Kurt gaped at him for a few seconds before his brain caught up. 'Um, Latin, Anatomy and Magic class?'

'That's not life-threatening. You're going to show me how to get up to your room, and we're going to find one of your friends, and they can come and take care of you, and I'll stay down here, and when Blaine comes back – this isn't an _if_, Kurt, of course he'll come back, I'll come and find you as soon as possible. Okay?'

'Okay.'

Kurt followed Ethan through the castle, glad most people were still at lunch and so avoiding seeing his blotchy face and reddened eyes. They stopped at Mercedes' room on the way up, and Kurt was relieved when she opened the door after a couple of knocks. She fussed over him all the way into his room, thanking Ethan and shooing him away. Kurt barely had time to shoot a weak but grateful smile in his direction before she shut the door in his face.

'Okay, Kurt, talk.' She sat on the end on his bed, eyebrows raised, as Kurt settled down against the headboard.

He told her everything – how well it had been going, the way he'd thought Blaine had looked at him, the quiet but absolutely perfect moment wrapped in the blanket before Kurt had ruined it all. When he told her about how Blaine had pulled away and run off, she shuffled up to the top of the bed and pulled him into a tight hug.

'Kurt, listen,' she said gently. 'I know you think it is, but this is not your fault, okay? It's no-one's fault, Boo. We still don't know why Blaine left; you can't immediately blame yourself like this.'

'He left because he doesn't like me, Mercedes! He left because he doesn't want to have to deal with a best friend who tried to _kiss him_ when he isn't even _gay_!'

'He kissed you back, didn't he?'

Kurt snapped his jaw shut, about to retaliate with another sharp comment, but he realised she was right. Blaine _had_ kissed him back. Even if it had only been brief, it was something, and Kurt felt the faintest glimmer of something like hope stir in the depths of his chest.

'Right. Now what do you want to do instead of going to class?'

* * *

Blaine didn't return for six days after Kurt had kissed him.

The tension between Kurt and his friends was palpable. He had only told Mercedes what was going on, and while Ethan and Jeff knew – and Rory had an inkling – they weren't the people he spent most of his free time with. Now that Blaine wasn't here he was sitting with Tina and Mercedes and Rachel in their rooms in the evenings, trying to make conversation and keep his mind off _why isn't Blaine back yet_ and _what if he hates me_ and _it's really dangerous for him out there_. He told Tina what had happened a couple of days after Blaine left and eventually, Rachel managed to wheedle out what was going on. Whilst she was delighted to find out about Kurt making a new friend, she didn't try to hide her disgust at Blaine's rejection of Kurt's advances – no matter how many times Kurt tried to tell her that Blaine had only reacted naturally and that he himself was the one at fault.

As the amount of time since Blaine had left began to grow, so did Kurt's worries about his safety. There hadn't been much news about the impending war with Roden, and while Kurt hoped that no news was good news, he couldn't help but worry that spies had managed to get over the border and into the towns without raising any alarms. What if they saw Blaine and recognised him? What if they caught him? What if they took him back to his father?

Kurt tried his best to keep his mind off worries, tried to stop thinking about Blaine and concentrate on his friends and schoolwork, but try as he might, his thoughts always seemed to slip back to soft dark curls and bright eyes and a warm smile. Only whenever he saw him, climbing a tree or laughing in the golden sunlight or curled up in one of Kurt's armchairs, the image was immediately followed by a haunting flash of Blaine bloodied and beaten and cowering under the gaze of a dark, imposing man.

* * *

Saturday morning dawned bright and early, sunlight streaming in through Kurt's window and tickling his eyelids to wake him up. He yawned, checked the time, and dragged himself out of bed. Shuffling over to the window, he glanced out briefly, noted that the weather was good, and decided to go on a short walk before breakfast to take his mind off things.

He dressed quickly and simply – soft black leather leggings, a nondescript blue tunic, an extra leather jacket to keep off the early morning chill. He wrapped a red scarf around his neck as an afterthought before heading out the door.

The walk down to the lake was calm in the fresh sunlight, the countryside around him cast various shades of yellow and pink and vibrant green. When he approached the ring of trees bordering the water, he could hear the chirping of birds as they sang their morning song.

He felt better than he had all week. Maybe it was the early night he had had last night, maybe it was the bright sunshine, maybe it was just the fact that most of his friends now knew what had happened (Rachel was the worst secret-keeper in all of Kerajan) and he didn't have to hide Blaine anymore – he just felt good. Well, almost good.

He settled down on the shore, not quite where they had been sitting nearly a week ago, and gazed out over the water. The peace of the morning seeped into his bones, and despite how he had been feeling all week, he allowed a small smile to grace his lips.

_Crunch_.

He jumped as he heard what was unmistakeably the sound of a boot on the pebbles of the beach, and then – 'Kurt?'

Kurt froze. He knew that voice. He knew it laughing and shouting and scared and crying and whispered softly in moonlit forests. He turned round.

'Blaine?'

Blaine smiled slightly, shrugging. 'Hi,' he said softly.

Kurt's gaze drifted over him as he stood up. His hair was a mess, untamed with the usual wax he put in it to keep some form of control, and his clothes were creased and torn in places. Kurt noted that they were the same that he had been wearing last time they met. He had dirty hands and arms and… _oh no_, a huge purple bruise on the left side of his face.

'Are – are you okay?'

'I'm fine.' Blaine took a step towards him. 'And… I'm sorry.'

Kurt's mouth moved aimlessly as he tried to formulate words. '…What for?'

Blaine let out a soft huff of laughter, glancing down at his feet. 'What for… Kurt, I think the answer to that question should be fairly obvious.' Kurt shook his head slowly. 'Okay,' Blaine said softly. 'Um – can we sit down?'

Kurt nodded and they sat, facing each other, a few feet away from the water. Blaine glanced down at his hands, fiddling with the hem of his pants. 'I… I'm not sure where to start, to be honest.' His voice was breathy, and he looked up and out at the water, avoiding Kurt's gaze. 'Look, Kurt, I – you – wow. Okay. So when we first met, all that time ago in the forest, remember when we had run away from the wolves and were waiting them out in the tree and you said you got bullied because you like men?' Kurt nodded. 'I think… maybe that was when I first started. Thinking. About… myself.'

'Oh,' Kurt said quietly.

'Yeah. And then you left and I went back and we were attacked and it was terrifying and we only just managed to get away and get here and when I found you it wasn't really top of my mind anymore. But then we started seeing each other all the time and I… I couldn't stop thinking about you. And what… what you mean to me.'

Kurt could feel his heartbeat increasing; gripped his fingers together tightly to try and keep his emotions under control. Blaine turned back to him and met his gaze, hazel eyes glinting in the sun, and reached across the lay his hands on top of Kurt's

'And then we – we came here, and it was awesome, and you looked – _amazing_, Kurt, I just – and then we were sitting together and it was absolutely perfect, and then you, you _kissed me_ and it was more than perfect.'

Kurt felt like his heart was in his throat as Blaine's gaze continued to bore into his.

'But then I remembered… my father, and Nick and Jeff, and even how much you got harassed and I – it was too much. Just… all at once. I was terrified about what could happen and I don't know why because my father couldn't find out but somehow I thought he would and I stopped and I'm _so,_ _so sorry_, it was a panic in the moment and I just had to get away because I couldn't bring myself to think about what this all could mean other than the bad things and I was only going to ride out to the woods and maybe sit there for a couple of hours but…' Blaine retreated his hands and touched the wound on the side of his head gently. 'I was compromised.'

'Oh my gosh, Blaine, I – who was it, what did they – are you okay –'

'Kurt, I'm fine. I'm sorry. I'll tell you everything that happened later. You just need to know that I managed to get away safely and fairly unharmed and… back to you.' He paused, taking a deep breath. 'You move me, Kurt. You've helped me realise who I really am and so much more. I'm sorry I ran away and I'm sorry for all the pain I know I've caused you. And I…' He gulped. 'You look amazing in this light and I really want to kiss you right now.'

Kurt's breath caught in his throat. 'Y – yes,' he stammered.

Smiling nervously, Blaine slid a hand around his neck and gently pulled their mouths together.

It was so much better than the first time. Blaine's lips were soft and smooth and moving gently against his, little points of pressure that sent shivers down Kurt's spine. He kissed back, kneeling up and deepening it, one hand sliding into the curls at the back of Blaine's neck and the other coming to rest on his shoulder. Blaine's nose pressed into his cheek and he pulled back a little, opening his eyes to find Blaine staring into his own, so intimate and _perfect_ in every way that Kurt felt like he was going to explode. He didn't, though, simply tilted his head the other way to change the angle and pressed in again.

They kissed for what seemed like hours, hands in hair and on necks and jaws and backs, mouths very slightly open and moving gently against each other, the sunlight streaming down between them and warming Kurt's skin. Eventually Blaine pulled back and leant his forehead against Kurt's, gazing silently into his eyes, the soft smile on his lips mere inches from his. Kurt took the opportunity to try and determine the exact shade of Blaine's – except the sun was lighting them up golden and brown and green and he couldn't decide. After a few more seconds of simply staring, he pulled away and let his hands drop to his lap as a grin to mimic his own spread across Blaine's features.

Kurt stood up, grabbing Blaine's hand and pulling him to his feet. 'Come on,' he said softly. 'Let's get you inside and you can tell me all about how you got that horrible bruise.'

'And escaped,' Blaine added.

'Oh, of course, we wouldn't want to forget the most important part, would we, valiant knight?' Kurt teased, leaning in to press another soft kiss to Blaine's lips. 'Come on,' he said again, tugging at Blaine's hand.

Blaine stumbled after him, knocking into him and settling an arm around his waist. Giggling and occasionally stopping to kiss each other again, they made their way back to the castle.

And finally, the disarray that Kurt's life had been in over the past week seemed to settle back in place.

* * *

**VERY IMPORTANT NOTICE: Starting from my next update, this story is going to be retitled as _Pick a Star on the Dark Horizon_. I've never really liked the title _Magic of Love _(and I find it exceptionally cheesy). The new one is from the lyrics of The Call by Regina Spektor, which you can listen to on Youtube here /watch?v=qgUL3ut4gyQ.**

**Again, thank you for reading, and reviews are greatly appreciated!**


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